Storm Before the Calm
by Awinters25 - TeamAngst
Summary: After a plea for help comes to Solona Amell's desk, she leaves behind her new life and lover to travel back to Amaranthine to aid the Grey Wardens of Ferelden. When she arrives, her life is changed forever by a Spirit of Justice, a vengeful mage and a Templar from her past. Fighting darkness and nightmares at every turn, this will be Solona's greatest challenge yet. Rated M.
1. Nightmares

A/N: This is being rewritten as of 7/29/14. Please bear with me as I figure out the changes I need to make and get this story prepared to be continued. Thank you so much to my friend Lynn for convincing me that rewriting would be better in the end. :D

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_Chapter 1: "Nightmares"_

___Blood. It dripped from the knife she held in her hand. The body at her feet still warm. The hot crimson liquid poured from the open wound on her victim's neck, staining the floor beneath him. With each drop of blood that fell upon her skin, Solona had to hold back a shiver. She'd done it. She'd killed him. The first man she'd ever loved. Her best friend. The person ____who had broken____ her heart and betray____ed____ her all within the same year. A man who had resorted to blood magic in order to gain power he wasn't supposed to possess. A man who ____had____ turned into an assassin and unleashed a demon on an unsuspecting boy. A man that ____had ____sought redemption by performing a blood magic ritual that lead to the death of the ____a____rlessa of Redcliffe._

___Tears streamed down her face as Solona gazed into the dull, lifeless gray eyes of the man she ____had ____once loved. She didn't have a choice. She would have chosen a different route, but sadly, there wasn't one. Jowan had tried to kill Arl Eamon. There was no other option in this._

___The knife fell from her hand and landed beside the body with a clatter. She felt cold, both inside and out. But the blood on her hands was warm. So very warm. Her hazel eyes moved from his face to the wound she'd made across his throat. The cut was red, blood ____staining____ the skin around it pink. His complexion was pale, his cheeks sunken, no movement coming from his form. If she touched him, Solona was positive that she'd find him cold as ice._

___Voices were muttering behind her, but nothing made sense. It was only when a hand la____nded____ heavily on her shoulder that she was able to look away from Jowan and up into the violet eyes of a Qunari. Her companion and the only person besides Morrigan that Solona truly trusted. Sten and the witch didn't hide their opinions from her. They always challenged her and she found that refreshing. Alistair would defer to her no matter what. Zevran, Leliana and Oghren were content with enjoying the simplest pleasures. Solona was their leader. She made the tough decisions and even when they questioned her, they still fell in line. The only ones who never truly did were the witch of the Wilds and the ____Qunari____._

___Sten's eyes watched her silently as if trying to decide whether he should speak or not. He hadn't witnessed a moment of weakness in Solona Amell before. She'd always been determined, stubborn and fearless. When the companions had arrived at Kinloch Hold, everyone had expected Solona to defend the mages until her last breath. It ____had____ surprised them when she stood beside the Templars, slaughtering abominations, blood mages and most likely innocents as well, just to ensure that no demons would leave. The Sten had been proud of his Kadan in that moment and vowed to stand with her to the very end. Even if that meant his own death._

___Now, he watched her with something close to concern in his gaze. Well, as close as the Qunari ever got to showing emotion._

_"____Kadan?" Sten questioned, pulling his hand from her shoulder and letting it fall to his side. "Will you be alright?"_

___Solona nodded her head once before reaching up to wipe the tears from her face. "I am. Thank you, Sten."_

_"____What is next?" The Qunari asked, knowing the answer before his leader even spoke._

___With one last fleeting look at her fallen ex-lover, Solona stiffened her stance in the way he was accustomed to. "We have an Archdemon to kill."_

Solona's eyes opened to darkness. Most nights were the same since the Battle of Denerim. She would retire to bed early in the evening only to be overcome with terrible dreams. Some nights she dreamed of Jowan's death. Others it would be the final battle against the Archdemon where Alistair had given his life to save Thedas. There were some nights when she would even dream of when she had annulled the Circle Tower, killing everyone within it: mages and Templars alike, even children. Wynne's death weighed heavily on her conscience, but she'd done her duty. She had to protect Thedas from the Blight. Demons would be a distraction to what she had been meant to accomplish.

Every night she'd go to bed alone, but like clockwork, the nightmares would come and she'd wake up to pure darkness. Even Teagan's arms around her didn't ease the tightness in her chest as she lay awake and contemplated her decisions. She held a shadow inside of her, something she'd never be rid of no matter how hard she tried to be happy. Her soul had withered and died the moment that sharp steel blade had slid across Jowan's throat. Yes, he'd hurt her more than anyone else had in her entire life. Yes, he'd rejected her and betrayed her by turning to blood magic. She would never be able to forgive him for these things, but she still loved him.

Even in the dark, Solona could see Teagan's sleeping form beside her. One of his arms was draped over her waist, his hand curled around her hip. His blue eyes were shut tightly. Soft breaths came from his mouth as he slept. He knew nothing of the turmoil flooding his lover's thoughts. He'd become the Arl of Redcliffe after Eamon had died in the Battle of Denerim. Eamon's only child, a son named Connor, was a mage and wouldn't be able to inherit the title, so it immediately fell to Teagan. Kinloch Hold was still in disarray, the repairs still ongoing after Uldred's uprising. The Chantry had allowed the boy to stay with Teagan until the Circle was ready to accept him.

Solona had been living with Teagan for the past few months. Queen Anora and her newly coronated prince-consort, Fergus Cousland, had offered a room to her in their Palace in Denerim, Anora going as far to say that the "Hero of Ferelden only deserved the best accommodations", but Solona had refused. She'd grown up in the Circle Tower. She'd lived in a dormitory with dozens of other apprentices while being watched by templar soldiers. She would survive without fancy bedding and servants waiting on her every whim.

Sliding from Teagan's embrace, Solona pulled a silk robe on over her tunic and left the room before she woke the arl. Her bare feet made no noise as she descended the stairs into the main hall of the Castle. It'd been two months since she'd left Vigil's Keep in Amaranthine. The stronghold had been given to the Wardens by Queen Anora. The Keep wasn't as large or as grand as Redcliffe Castle, but it was functional and easily defensible, two things Solona had been thinking about more and more as her time as a Grey Warden stretched on. It was hard to imagine that once upon a time she'd been a young girl with no thoughts of magic or darkspawn or politics. A time when she could just curl up in her bed and not worry about anything.

That time was long gone.

Sinking into the stuffed chair that sat in front of her desk, which stood in the heart of the library, she grabbed the letters she had ignored earlier that day. The desk was one of the only changes that she'd allowed Teagan to make for her. Although she wasn't technically Warden Commander of Ferelden any longer, that title now belonged to Nathaniel Howe, Solona was still called upon at times to act as a consultant. Nate usually did fine on his own, the man had been groomed for ruling Amaranthine anyway, but there were things he didn't know about that she needed to help him with.

Usually those things included Nate's newly realized romance with the apostate, Anders. If only she wasn't so close to Anders because of their time together in Kinloch Hold, maybe she'd get a reprieve from giving relationship advice.

With a sigh, Solona rubbed the spot where a headache had begun to form. Her nightmares were steadily growing worse, usually a sign of a Warden's Calling getting closer, but she had been a Warden for less than two years. The time limit she'd been given before the taint took her over had been between twenty to thirty years. It was too early for her to go to her death. Solona blamed the headaches on her lack of sleep, her lack of sleep on the nightmares and the nightmares on her overburdened conscience. She had so many things to be sorry for. If only her damned mind would settle enough for her to find peace and get a good night's rest.

Most of her letters were things that Teagan could address without her input, but one stood out above the rest. The scrawl was in Nate's handwriting. Concerned, Solona ripped open the seal and read the paper's contents.

___Solona,_

___I hate to ask this of you. ____Y____ou've probably just settled into Redcliffe, but ____I worry for Anders____. Rolan and some of the other recruits ____that had arrived before you left____are causing trouble with him.____Anders has____ already picked fights with them ____and it's steadily increasing in volatility.____ I know it might not seem important to you, but I ____care deeply for him____. He is ____unpredictable____ at times____ and may be a danger to himself a____s well as the rest of my charges____. The only company he seems to keep nowadays is that of Justice and for some reason, I ____am chilled ____when I see them speaking. Something is not right and I need your help. Velanna is gone. I received a letter from King Bhelen saying she was in Orzammar not long ago so my guess is that she's searching for Seranni in the Deep Roads. Oghren is useless, his drinking becoming more of a hindrance than before and Sigrun- she's ____lost herself in the pleasure of men and women alike in the brothels of the city._

___The Orlesian Wardens have been no help at all and it pains me to admit it, but I need my Commander and my friend by my side again. Please say you'll come. ____If not for me, then for the man we both love._

___All the best,_

___Nathaniel Howe  
Warden Commander of Ferelden and Arl of Amaranthine_

Solona set the vellum on the desk and closed her eyes. She already knew her answer to Nathaniel's request. Of course she'd go. She was a Grey Warden, first and foremost. A fellow warden needed her assistance and she wouldn't fail him. But there was more to it than that. Anders was her best friend. She would walk through the Void for him. Nathaniel was worried for his lover and she was worried for her friend.

Solona had known her relationship with Teagan wouldn't last forever. She was a mage, he was not. She was not allowed to rule anything and he was an arl. She was a Grey Warden, someone committed to defeating darkspawn and the Blight. She would die in another twenty years. With the taint in her blood, she'd never be able to produce children for Teagan. He wouldn't have an heir to his seat. Even if by some miracle they had a child, it would most likely have magic in his or her blood, not to mention what the taint could do to their offspring. Teagan wouldn't like her decision, but she had a duty to Ferelden. A duty to the Wardens. A duty to Anders. She wouldn't abandon the only true friend she had left in this world.


	2. Shattered

**A/N:** I didn't mention this in the first chapter's A/N, but this story is completely non-canon Dragon Age. The things that happened during DA2 will not be happening in the same way. Choices, characters and storyline could possibly be changed to fit the world I'm creating. If you don't like reading non-canon or AU, please stop now. If you do like it, then by all means, continue reading! I'll warn you, however, that there is a lot of angst, disturbing images, violence and death in this story... and future sexytimes!

Musical inspiration for this chapter: "Shattered" by Trading Yesterday

Edited: 7/29/14

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_Chapter 2: "Shattered"_

Solona was sitting at the large dining table in the main hall when Teagan Guerrin finally sauntered in. She glanced up to take in her lover's appearance. His rich auburn hair had been brushed, a single braid tucked behind his ear. His beard was trimmed close to his face. Blue eyes peered at her from across the room. He was still wearing the gear from his early morning ride. His face was flushed from windburn and yet, he looked as handsome as ever. At the sight of her sitting there, waiting for him, Teagan smiled brightly. She wished she could be as happy to see him as he was to see her, she really did, but she was going to sadden him with her decision. She was going to crush his dreams.

"So... tell me if this sounds strange. I return from my morning ride and Dennet asks me to tell you that your horse is saddled and ready for departure. Pray tell, dear heart, where are you going at this time of day?" Teagan didn't sit as he spoke. Solona hadn't expected him to. His expression was jovial, hidden behind a mask he used so often that it was second nature, but she could see in the ocean blue of his eyes that he was upset.

Solona was prepared to respond the only way she knew how, with cold determination, when a movement to Teagan's right caught her attention. Connor was standing beside his uncle, his auburn hair a shaggy mess. He'd clearly been riding around the estate with Teagan and the sight of the young boy startled her into silence.

"Hello, Auntie Lona!" Connor cheered happily, sitting down beside the warden without pause. He leaned towards Solona and gave her a small peck on her cheek before digging into his breakfast. "Where are you going? Uncle Teagan was surprised to hear you were leaving."

A lump formed in her throat. She'd gotten close to Eamon's son and it hurt to see him ask the question with such innocence. Out of the corner of her eye, Solona could see Teagan cross his arms over his chest as he waited for her to speak. With a weak smile at Connor, she placed the missive from Nate on the table. It took her a moment, but she finally turned her attention to Teagan.

He was looking at her with uncertainty. Neither of them liked to argue, about anything, so it was practically impossible for her to slide the paper towards him. At first, he didn't move. He stared at the broken seal of the letter with fire in his eyes. Solona was positive he could see the griffons on the wax, the heraldry of the Grey Wardens, from where he stood. With jaw tensed, Teagan took a small step forward and gripped the letter in his hand.

Solona glanced at Connor as Teagan read the letter silently. The boy was eating his eggs and ham without a care in the world. He'd lost both of his parents due to the events of the Blight, but somehow, he had found a reason to move on, to live. Solona was so proud of him. He was a mage and could no longer be the Arl of Redcliffe like he had been bred to be, but he didn't care. He was barely ten years of age and had all the time in the world to still be a kid. She wasn't given any choice in her future when her parents learned of her magical ability. She'd been ripped away from her mother and father, from her young siblings, at the tender age of eleven. She'd been thrown into the Circle and forgotten. She didn't want that for Connor Guerrin. She didn't want that for any mage.

Teagan slammed the letter down onto the table. The noise his hand made against the wood startled her out of her thoughts and she glanced up at him with wide eyes. He was no longer hiding his fury behind a mask and was glaring at her instead.

"Teagan..."

"Is this a joke?" He snapped, lifting his hand from the table and motioning to the now abandoned letter. "Are you just going to leave Redcliffe and go back to the Wardens?"

"Nathaniel needs my help-"

"I thought Howe was groomed to take the seat in Amaranthine. He was your bloody Lieutenant for the few months you were the Commander. You assured me that the wardens wouldn't have to call on you again." Teagan was troubled, Solona couldn't deny that. She understood why. She'd made a promise to him. She would finish with the wardens, retire for good and they'd lived the last of her years in Redcliffe. She'd help Connor control his magic before he was sent to the Circle. But now the wardens needed her more than Connor or Teagan did. She wasn't the kind of person to shirk her duty even for her own desires. She had a calling and she'd be damned if she didn't follow it.

"It isn't that simple. I may not be the Commander of Ferelden any longer, but I'm still a Grey Warden."

"You are retired." Teagan sighed. "You told me you were done with the wardens. Those were your very words, Solona."

Any emotion that she might have had for Teagan's pain increased tenfold at his statement concerning the wardens. She may not have agreed with some of the things the First Warden did, but the Grey Wardens were her family. As she stared into Teagan's blue eyes, however, she knew that he was her family too. She was trading in the family she had chosen for the family she had been forced into. There was one thing Teagan couldn't give her that the wardens could. They understood her better than anyone else ever could. The pull of the taint, the torturous nightmares, the fear a warden felt when one of their own submitted to the Long Walk. With a deep breath, she replied, "One never retires from the Grey Wardens. You know that. I will be one until the day I die."

Teagan turned away from her, hiding his tortured expression even though she knew it was there. "I am not ready to stay goodbye again, Solona."

"Neither am I." Solona whispered, not believing her own words as she spoke them. She wasn't sure what hurt more, Teagan's pain or her lies. If she truly didn't want to leave, she wouldn't.

"Then why haven't you accepted my proposal, yet?" He demanded, looking much like a man ready for battle. That was the Teagan she'd fallen for: resolute and unflinching. She didn't deserve him.

Closing her eyes to block out his face, she answered him truthfully. "Because you cannot marry a mage, Teagan."

"Who are you to tell me whom I may marry?" Teagan said, his voice breaking. The betrayal was evident and to hear him succumb to his fear was like a knife to Solona's heart. "I want to be with you, Solona. Don't you want the same?"

Knowing what she had to do, though it would've been easier to rip out her own heart and stomp it into a bloody mess on the ground, Solona opened her hazel eyes. Meeting his gaze, she spoke clearly and to the point. "I thought I did, but I'm not the same person I was all of those years ago, Teagan. Neither are you."

"How can you say that? After all we've been through together." Teagan said in a soft voice. Solona could feel her heart tear at the sound.

"I've been through a lot more than you can imagine."

Teagan ran a hand through his shoulder length hair, ruining the braid that had been put in that morning. "Yes! I understand. You've been through the void and back. We all have! But Solona- I've dealt with your blood mage ex-lover, the death of my brother and sister in law. I waited for you while you traveled to Par Vollen with the Qunari and go on a hunt for your witch friend. I even gave you up so you could be the Commander of the Grey and yet you still ask these things of me."

Swallowing past the lump that had steadily grown as she listened to Teagan, she mustered what courage she could to speak. "Teagan, I-I'm sorry."

With a shake of his head, he closed his eyes, refusing to look at her. "Please- just go."

Standing up from the table, Solona somehow found the ability to approach where he stood. When she was in arm's reach, she placed a hand lightly against his cheek and turned him to face her. His eyes, full of tears, opened to stare at her, waiting for her to voice whatever it was she intended to say. "I'll be back, Teagan. You have my word."

The arl didn't look convinced by her words. He mustered a weak smile before turning his back on her completely.

Solona watched as he retreated from the main hall and to Maker only knew where. Closing her eyes again, she wished she had the ability to cry. That she could scream, tear at her hair, punch a wall... _something_. But all she felt was a numbness. The place in her chest where her heart should have been was empty. Cold.

A sniffle made her eyes snap open. Connor was sitting behind her at the table, forgotten in the conversation with Teagan. With a frown, she reached out to the young boy to comfort him. "Connor..."

He flinched as if she had tried to hit him. "Leave me alone!"

Before she could react, Connor was gone as well, leaving her alone in the dining room. Her eyes found the plate of barely touched food at her spot at the table. Her appetite was gone, just like her heart, her soul. She was cold and empty with nothing to sustain her but her duty.


	3. The Vigil

**A/N:** I'm giving everyone a little bit of a break with the angst. This will explain everything about Solona's 'mission' and some lighthearted fun from Oghren and Sigrun. We all need those moments were we don't have to be so serious. Besides, you'll thank me for this later... when the shit hits the fan and it all goes to the void.

Edit: 8/4/14

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Chapter 3: "The Vigil"

The parapets of Vigil's Keep could be seen from a distance. Solona's horse, a black and white mare named Spellbloom, walked steadily along the darkened road, her nostrils blowing wisps of hot air into the cold surrounding them. The moon had risen late in the night, but its light barely illuminated her path. A hooded cloak hid her appearance from those who passed her as she traveled. Most Fereldans wouldn't know her from any other person on the path, but for those few she'd met during the Blight, there would be no denying she was the Hero of Ferelden.

___A stupid and useless title_, Solona thought to herself as Spellbloom galloped on.___I'm no hero. That title belonged to Alistair and that fool is too dead to care what people call him._

Hazel eyes turned upward to gaze at the sky, velvet black and dotted with thousands of tiny specks of light. Solona had never seen stars before she was conscripted into the ranks of the Grey Wardens. She had lived her entire life in Kinloch Hold, the Circle of Magi, and had never left its walls. The first night she spent under the sky with Duncan, the Commander of the Grey at the time, had been magical.

Torchlight in the distance brought her attention back to the present. Pulling on Spellbloom's reins, Solona slowed the horse to a trot. The Keep had been nearly destroyed when the Mother's darkspawn forces had attacked it. Solona, knowing the Keep was strong enough to hold against the attack, had taken Velanna, Nathaniel and Oghren to Amaranthine City to protect its inhabitants from creatures that the Mother dubbed the "children". With the city saved, the group had gone on to destroy the Mother. Despite the fortifications, however, the Keep suffered heavy damage during the battle and Solona had stayed long enough to help her Wardens start the rebuilding efforts.

From what she could see in the dark of night, Nathaniel had taken every resource he had available to him to make sure that Vigil's Keep would see her former glory. A smile graced her face as she came to the gate of the fortress. Leaving command in Nate's hands had been the right call. He was meant to lead, that much was obvious.

A tall, well built man with short dark hair and a long mustache was holding the torch she'd seen before. He was wearing heavy Warden armor with an enormous greatsword strapped to his back. He glanced up at her in interest. His jaw was covered in rough hair that he had yet to shave. The torchlight made his eyes look dark, but Solona knew the color of those irises: olive green speckled with brown.

"Stroud." Solona said, unable to hide the amusement in her voice. She and the Orlesian Warden had antagonized each other in her final month as Commander. She'd never admit it aloud, but she missed him. She missed all of her fellow comrades.

"Comman... What do I call you now?" Stroud asked, raising a hand to take hers and help her from the saddle. She landed beside him easily and taking the reins in her grip, followed him towards the stables. A breeze ruffled her hair and she inhaled, enjoying the familiar scent of the Amaranthine ocean: salt and seaweed with the lingering smell of fish.

It eased the ache in her chest a bit. The scent lightened her mood enough for her speak to Stroud with a small laugh on her lips. "Call me whatever you'd like. I'm not your boss anymore."

The Orlesian chuckled. "You might regret saying that."

Unsaddling Spellbloom and leaving her in a stall with fresh water and hay, Solona tossed a grin his way. "It can't be worse than the things that come out of Oghren's mouth."

"You'd be surprised, my dear. Orlesians can do battle of tongues better than most."

Stroud was still smiling, but as Solona got a good look at his face, she noticed the grin was strained. Her good mood floated away as the content of Nate's letter passed through her mind again. "It's bad, isn't it?"

Stroud grimaced, but shook his head instead of answering her question. "The Commander will have to explain. It's not my place."

Solona nodded her acquiesce and followed Stroud to the inner building of Vigil's Keep. Many parts of the walls were still felled, stone and mortar covering the grass of the central courtyard. Homes that had been inside of the Keep's bulwarks had been burned or otherwise annihilated by the darkspawn taint. A lot of people had lost their lives that night, but if Solona hadn't reinforced the walls and commissioned explosives to be set up at certain points in the fort, it would have been a lot worse.

The halls of the Vigil were filled with cots and blankets, making temporary beds for the wardens and people who had once lived in the now ruined homes within the Keep's walls. Guilt assaulted her. She'd left these people this way. She was the Commander of the Grey and because of her feelings for Teagan and Connor, she had deserted them in order to live a normal life far away from all of the darkspawn and death. Here were people who had risked their lives to defend Vigil's Keep, some who were farmers and artisans, some who had never lifted a sword in their lives, and they were stuck sleeping in halls on blankets spread across the stone floor.

Grinding her teeth together, Solona vowed that she'd never abandon them again. She may no longer be the Commander of the Grey, but she was still a Grey Warden. She wouldn't fail those she was meant to protect.

In peace, vigilance.

In war, victory.

In death, sacrifice.

Repeating the motto in her head, she followed Stroud down the hallways of the Keep. Her fellow warden paused at the door that lead to her former office. Solona was surprised to see that Nathaniel was using it as his own.

Stroud glanced at her over his shoulder, a frown displayed prominently on his face. "This isn't going to be easy to hear."

Solona tried to calm the nervous beating of her heart. "It's Anders. I have to help."

Stroud's mouth thinned but he nodded in understanding. Anders wasn't just another warden to her. He was like a brother. He was the only friend she had left from the Circle Tower of Ferelden. He had been her closest confidante during her tumultuous years in the Tower, always settling her fears and keeping her safe. When she was conscripted, Anders had been locked in solitary and fearing for his life, she immediately set off to Kinloch Hold after the fall of Ostagar. There had been a blood mage uprising. Uldred, one of her former instructors, had been possessed by a demon and was raising abominations and shades throughout the Tower. It was only then that Solona learned of Anders' seventh escape. He had been gone before Uldred returned and So had been relieved. She hadn't known of his fate until Amaranthine when she and her newest recruit had run into him. Since that day, the day of his own conscription, Solona and Anders had been nearly inseparable.

When she had finally decided to leave the Wardens and return to Redcliffe and Teagan, Anders had begged her not to go. It broke her heart to do it, but she cared for Teagan. She wanted to try to get some kind of normalcy back into her life and he would do it for her. Anders hadn't understood and Solona had left their friendship less than amicable. She wouldn't make the same mistake if he was in trouble. She'd help him and go back to the wardens, bringing him back with her if he chose to come.

The office was small yet inviting. A fire blazed in the hearth to her right, a shield with the Warden's insignia hanging above the mantle. A desk was situated in the center of the room, papers, ink wells and a quill laid out on top. A bottle of wine was opened and sitting beside one of the ink wells, its fruity aroma blending with the smoky scent of the fire. Stroud left her side to stand in front of the bookcases Solona had brought in when she first became Commander. It appeared that Nate had added to the collection of volumes.

"If I ain't a bronto's behind... The Commander's back!" A gruff, deep voice spoke out as she cleared the door. It didn't take long to locate where the voice came from and Solona was greeted with the image of a stout dwarf, red beard braided and large eyes staring up at her drunkenly. He was still wearing his heavy plate armor with a battle ax secured to his back.

"Hello, Oghren." Solona said with a grin. "It's nice to see you, but I'm not the Commander anymore."

"Yeah, you left it in the hands of that sodding broody archer." Oghren growled before lifting a mug of what was most likely ale to his lips and chugging it. Once he'd gotten a belly full, he pulled the cup from his mouth and let out a belch.

Solona shook her head at the display. Same ole Oghren.

"I don't mind following Nate." A sweet, feminine voice piped up. "Especially if I get to see more of that back of his."

Sigrun's blue eyes gazed up at her ex-Commander with an innocence that Solona knew was faked. The dwarf's black hair was in its usual pigtails, but she wasn't in her armor like the rest of them. She wore a soft tunic and pants, clearly ready to retire for the evening. Her dark Legion tattoos stood out where they were etched into her pale skin.

"Really, Sigrun?" Solona asked, her lips quirking with the question.

Sigrun raised an eyebrow. "Oh please. Like you haven't thought the same on occasion."

Stroud snorted at the same time he drank from his wine glass, inhaling wine and choking on it. Solona's hazel eyes turned to look at the warrior and once she was sure he'd survive, she returned them to Sigrun. "I don't think of Nathaniel in that way. I don't think of any of the wardens like-"

"So you say." The rogue dwarf quipped, interrupting So's sentence. "If I were the leader, I would've commanded him to-"

Stroud let off a loud and unnecessary cough to cover Sigrun's words. Oghren let out a hearty laugh when his fellow dwarf glared at the Orlesian. Solona rolled her eyes before Nathaniel walked into the office, a stack of correspondence in his hands. His dark hair was loose and fell in damp waves around his face. It was clear he'd recently bathed and he smelled of soap. It was refreshing to see him so at ease in his new role.

At the spectacle that was carrying on in front of him, Nate gave them all an odd look. "Am I interrupting something?"

Oghren hiccuped before taking it upon himself to answer the question. "The ladies here was just talking 'bout your sex life."

Nathaniel looked stricken, clearly not expecting that as an answer. Stroud groaned in mortification and covered his eyes with the hand that wasn't holding a goblet. Oghren grumbled with laughter and Sigrun, for once in her life, looked embarrassed.

Solona, shaking her head, turned to her old friend and the new Commander of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden. "That's not important, Nate. You needed to see me for a reason. What is it?" Glancing around, she noticed that the man she truly wanted to see the most wasn't there. "Where is Anders?"

Anders's name brought Nate back to the task at hand. A frown slid across his face as he spoke of his lover. "Anders is gone, So."

"Gone?"

"The mage went nug shit crazy and disappeared." Oghren added, reaching for the wine now that his ale was gone.

Solona grimaced. Oghren was never one for tactful speech, but this was Anders he was talking about. There was no one whom she or Nate cared more for.

"That is enough, Oghren." Nathaniel snapped at the dwarf before turning sorrow filled eyes to Solona. "Anders claimed that the Templars we recruited were spying on him. He became more and more paranoid as the weeks went on. To stop them from ripping each other apart, I sent them on a mission to fight some darkspawn in a nearby cave. None of them returned."

Solona chewed her lip nervously. The Templars and Anders, alone, on a mission? What in the void was Nate thinking? "What happened?"

"I hadn't realized that Justice had been missing a few days before the mission. I wasn't entirely sure why I hadn't, but when I went to the caves to search for everyone, all I found was death and destruction. The bodies- So, there was almost nothing left of them." Nathaniel's face paled as he recalled images that would surely haunt him until the day he died. "It was like a storm had passed through."

"And Justice?" Solona asked, fear coating her voice as the pieces began to come together. This was bad.

"We found Kristoff's body decaying in one of the outer stables." Nate wrinkled his nose in disgust. "I thought that maybe something had killed Justice and his spirit went back to the Fade, but one of the newer mage recruits said that the entire place smelled like magic."

"Do you think he did it?" Solona asked, afraid to admit it to herself, but she knew Anders better than the others in the room. If he had no other choice but to escape, Anders would have done anything to get away.

Nathaniel nodded sadly. "I'm sure of it. Justice and Anders are one now."

Solona tried to distance herself from the panic that she could feel stirring within. With a stoic expression, she met Nate's steel colored gaze. "I will find him, Nate. For the both of us, I swear I will find Anders."

Stroud took a step forward and handed her a piece of vellum with notes scrawled on it. "I have a friend in the Free Marches who said she's seen Anders in Kirkwall. The mage set up a free clinic for the poor, does healing and other things for them. I'm not sure if he'll still be there, but it's as good as any place to start."

Gripping the vellum in her hands, crushing the paper and smearing the ink, Solona nodded. She knew what to do. She was not giving up on Anders. He would never give up on her.


	4. Broken Soul

**A/N:** This chapter is where we finally arrive in Kirkwall. I know some of you are probably wondering when we'll get to see Cullen. Don't worry, it'll be soon! Solona has a few more things to do before we get to see everyone's favorite Templar. Half of this chapter is a dream sequence and the other half is Solona battling some dark feelings. Thank you to everyone who has read and commented! I truly appreciate it.

Musical inspiration for this chapter: "A New Hope" by Broken Iris

Edit: 8/4/14 (Not much has been edited here, mostly a few lines in the dream.)

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Chapter 4: "Broken Soul"

___The smell of burnt flesh filled the air. Screams, agonizing screams, could be heard from even atop Fort Drakon. The broken body of the Grey Warden, Riordan, lay a few feet from where Solona stood. Even after all of the death she'd witnessed over the past year, the sight of a man as strong as Riordan crumpled, bones crushed within his body, his face no longer recognizable in the gore that covered it, was almost too much to bear. Was this her fate? If the Archdemon didn't crush her ____beneath ____its enormous talons, would it crunch her b____etween____ its razor sharp teeth? The image sobered her._

_Blinking her vision clear, the mage turned as the Archdemon landed on the roof once more. Zevran, the elven assassin who was now an ally, barely had a chance to roll out of the path of a well aimed swipe of claws. The elf lost his balance as a Hurlock charged him, but the Orlesian bard, Leliana, was there like a bird, swooping in with her bow and putting an arrow into the eye of the creature. Sten, the bronze skinned Qunari with violet eyes, decapitated another Hurlock with a heavy blow from Asala, his sword and his soul. Oghren, the dwarf fighting beside the mighty Qunari, gripped a battle axe in his hands and went to work hacking at the knees of the taller darkspawn. Solona's closest friend, Morrigan, a powerful witch, was out of the fray and yet still a part of the battle. She stood on a raised piece of debris, out of the path of any blows that might be aimed at her. The Elm staff in her hands twirled over her head as she directed a blizzard at a group of darkspawn._

"_Solona!"_

_The deep voice cut through her haze and glancing over her shoulder, she met the gaze of the only other Grey Warden alive in Ferelden. Alistair was fighting a Genlock Emissary with his sword and shield, somehow still managing to spare her a concerned glance in the midst of the fight._

"_Take down Urthemiel!" He demanded, indicating the large violet dragon with a nod of his head._

_Solona steeled her nerves and, pulling Spellweaver from its place at her back, took a step forward. Flames erupted from her palm as she channeled her mana and whispered the words to the fire spell. The Archdemon let out a guttural scream as the flames burned its eyes. Once she'd spent all the mana she could on the spell, Solona switched tactics. She touched the Fade and brought it to her, shrouding herself in its magic. It made her body slightly incorporeal and protected her as she approached the dragon. Most of the attacks sent her way were consumed by the Fade shield surrounding her._

_With her sword in hand, Solona prepared for what she knew would be her final moments. If all went according to plan, she would sacrifice her life to slay the Archdemon and everyone else in Denerim would be spared. The Blight would be ended._

_The dragon sensed her approach and with an ear splitting roar, swung out a leg. The scream startled Solona and, accidentally dropping her shield, the limb was able to collide with her body. Spellweaver fell from her hands as she slide across the stone. She was only stopped in her trajectory by a ballistae. Her back connected with the hard wood of the weapon and she landed in a heap at its base. A sharp pain she'd never felt before erupted from her spine and radiated all the way down her to toes. Stars danced in her vision and closing her eyes, she tried to will her magic to heal the broken bones she undoubtedly had. Her mana was already low and the healing spell was weak and didn't do much to cure the damage._

_Footsteps hurried towards her. Managing to open her eyes despite the nausea that turned her stomach, she was greeted by a pair of brown eyes._

"_Solona!" Alistair called out to her, desperation in his dark gaze. "Hold on!"_

_Glancing towards the fray, he screamed for help. When he looked back down at her, Solona could see his mouth was set in a grim line. Fear pulsed through her for the first time in months._

"_Don't." She croaked, her voice nearly silent due to the overwhelming pain still wracking her form. "Don't_do _it, Alistair."_

_A rough hand moved a piece of the hair that had fallen out of her braid behind her ear. "You always said I needed to stop letting other people walk all over me."_

_With a sad smile, Solona closed her eyes against the terror that gripped. "I didn't mean_me_, jackass."_

_A dark chuckle escaped him. "I should have expected that from _you_."_

_Another set of footsteps could be heard nearing and Solona forced her eyes open again. She noticed the golden, hawk-like gaze of her best friend staring at her in concern. Her ebony hair was falling around her face in a waterfall, blood marring her otherwise beautifully exotic features. "Where are you hurt?"_

_Solona motioned towards her spine with the hand she wasn't leaning on and Morrigan set to work repairing her damaged bones. Morrigan wasn't the most experienced healer, but it would have to do until they got back to the palace. Once the cool tingle of healing magic began to work its way through her skin, she glanced at Alistair again. He appeared close to tears and it brought a wetness to her own eyes._

"_I can _do _this." She growled, giving him the meanest __expression__ she could manage._

_Alistair shook his head. "I never intended for you to take the final blow. This is the way it's supposed to be."_

"_No!" Solona ground her teeth together in frustration. Didn't the idiot realize she_wanted _to die? She had lost everything- her life, the man she loved and her hope. She _needed _to do this. "If you take the final blow, I_will _kill you."_

_That brought some semblance of a grin to his face. It was nothing compared to his usual jovial smile, but it was enough to throw her off. "You might be a little late for that."_

"_Alistair..."_

_The infuriating man leaned forward and captured her lips with his. She froze in uncertainty. Her brain refused to process this action and before she could push him away, Alistair released her. Tears were now streaming down his cheeks, hot and relentless. A tightening of her chest stole her breath._

"_It's always been you, Solona. Since the first day we met, I've felt things for you I shouldn't have. If only th__e world__ had been different. If only that blood mage hadn't broken you the way he did." The look he gave her was bittersweet. "I hope you find someone who can heal your damaged soul."_

_Solona hadn't noticed the tears on her own face until he leaned in slightly to wipe one away. Then he gave her his trademark smirk before lifting his father's sword in his hand and turning towards the dragon that waited._

Gasping for breath and unable to find it, Solona clutched her hands to her chest and pulled the sweaty tunic from her skin. A darkness she hadn't felt in a long time tore through her and it turned her disorientation to pure panic. It took a few minutes to focus her thoughts and to remind herself that she was on a ship bound for Kirkwall. Quickly climbing from the hammock she'd been sleeping on, Solona nearly lost her balance as the ship swayed. Her hands came up to grab the wall in order to steady herself.

Tears were streaming down her face as she remembered the nightmare. _Damn him_, she thought as she felt along the wall for the door. At the feel of cold metal in her hands, she pulled the door open and was greeted by a long hallway lit with candles. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light.

As she stumbled onto the deck, a salty breeze swept her long chestnut hair into the air. It was a cool night and that fact helped calm her heartbeat. She wasn't in Denerim. She wasn't at the top of Fort Drakon. Alistair was dead, had been for nearly a year. She was on a ship. She was going to the Free Marches. She was going to Anders.

Taking a deep breath, she placed her hands on the railing of the ship and leaned forward to gaze down at the black waves. They crashed loudly as the ship cut her way through the water. The sight of the ocean helped to ease her turmoil. This had been the worst nightmare she'd had in a long time and worry settled over her again. Was she going crazy?

Her eyes took in the horizon. The sun was starting to rise, but hadn't touched the sky yet. A conflagration of pinks, purples and blues filled the skyline. As she gazed out at the endless ocean, Alistair's last words to her reverberated through her mind.

_"____I hope you find someone who can heal your damaged soul."_

Solona and Alistair hadn't been close friends by any means. He always questioned her judgment. She never took him seriously. There had been long nights at camp arguing. There had been even longer days where they refused to speak. But she had admired his resilience. They'd both been thrown into a precarious position and had done the best they could.

She'd never known his true feelings for her until the very end.

Alistair had been right. Her soul was damaged beyond repair. Solona had sought out Teagan's comfort after the battle, knowing the Bann was attracted to her. One night turned into several until finally, Solona gave up. She could be alone for the rest of the life she had left or she could settle down with a kind and honorable man like Teagan. She didn't love him. She knew that wounded him more than anything else, but Solona didn't think she was capable of love. Not after all she'd been through.

"Nightmares again?" Stroud's Orlesian accent interrupted her brooding. She hadn't even heard him approach. He stood beside her at the railing and watched the rise and fall of the waves with her.

"The Archdemon." Solona whispered, not taking her eyes from the beautiful painting of colors the sky made.

Leaning an elbow on the wooden side, Stroud glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." She snapped. She wasn't trying to be unkind, but the lack of sleep was making her irritable.

Stroud sighed and turned away from her. "You need to talk about it sometime, Solona. It's going to eat you alive if you don't."

Solona closed her eyes, refusing to respond. She wanted him to go away so she could reflect on her tortuous past in peace.

"We should be arriving in Kirkwall in the next few hours. You should probably gather your belongings and prepare." Stroud stated sternly before moving away from her.

Before he got too far, Solona called out, eyes still closed. "Do you think I could have saved him?"

She heard Stroud's footfalls pause. Silence wrapped around them as the wind picked up. It whipped her hair violently around her head and the sting of the strands hitting her face helped to center her warring emotions.

"I don't think you could have done anything to help Anders. He was on the path of self-destruction long before he became a Warden."

Solona swallowed her doubts before she responded. "Not Anders. Alistair."

It took Stroud longer to answer this time. After what felt like an eternity, Solona opened her hazel gaze and turned to face him. He looked unnerved by her words. When he finally did speak, his words were carefully chosen. "I don't know, Solona. Maybe, maybe not. We'll never know."


	5. The Darktown Healer

Edit: 8/4/14

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Chapter 5: "The Darktown Healer"

Lowtown wasn't as bad as some of the side streets in Denerim, but the Alienage was much smaller than the one in Ferelden's capital. There seemed to be the permanent stench of fear in the air. Stroud lead her through the crowded streets, dodging merchants and pickpockets. It didn't take them long to arrive in front of a small building off to the side of the market. Solona's eyes gazed upward at the sign hanging above the door.

___Lirene's Ferelden Imports_.

"Stroud? What are we doing here?" Solona asked as her fellow Warden pulled open the door to reveal a packed single room within. A large number of people were crowded around a counter where two women stood shouting orders. She followed the Orlesian into the building and glanced around at the people. Some were sick, others were desperate, while still others appeared lost. One thing was certain, however. These citizens came from Ferelden.

"That friend I was telling you about, the one keeping an eye on Anders?"

Solona smirked at the innocence he was attempting to impart. She knew him too well to be fooled by the sweet look on his face. "Let me guess... this friend is Lirene?"

Stroud grinned and motioned for her to follow. The woman she assumed was Lirene stood behind the counter with a grim expression. It appeared she was having a tough time with all of the poor Fereldans that had come to Kirkwall to escape the Blight. When she caught sight of Stroud, however, she didn't look pleased.

"Don't tell me you've come back to claim your healer." The woman said with a shake of her head. "We need him now more than ever."

Stroud, leaning against the counter, gave Lirene his most compassionate expression. Lirene glared at him. Solona had to keep from laughing at his poor attempt at flirting. The woman clearly knew his game.

"Don't give me that look, Stroud. I'm not one of your doting mistresses. You are the same snake you've always been." The woman's accent was clearly Ferelden, but from what part, Solona couldn't determine.

"Lirene- we aren't in Kirkwall to take Anders away. I just need to speak to him." Solona said, trying to reason with the woman. Stroud was ___not _helping matters.

Lirene sighed and ran a hand through her already messed up brunette hair. "He has a clinic in Darktown. He's been helping the poor and sick for free. He is a beacon of hope in this otherwise dark city." She spoke kindly to Solona, but had nothing but contempt for Stroud. "His clinic is usually bursting at the seams in the early morning. You're sure to find him there."

"Thank you for your help." Solona pulled out her coin purse and handed Lirene a handful of gold. "Please- give these people whatever help you can."

Lirene gave her thanks before moving on to someone who needed her aid. Solona glanced at Stroud and saw him raise an eyebrow inquiringly.

"What?" She asked, not giving away a single thought in her expression.

"You are not going to the clinic alone." Stroud told her, crossing his arms over his chest and attempting to look intimidating.

Solona didn't find him frightening in the least. She'd faced far scarier things in her short life. A single man wouldn't turn her from her path. "I am. If you come in with me, he's immediately going to feel threatened. I can't risk that."

"The Commander ordered me to protect you." Stroud grumbled. He knew he was losing the battle and wasn't going to bow out gracefully.

"I hardly need protection from Anders. I'm not a frail noblewoman, Stroud. I fought the sodding Archdemon for Andraste's sake." Sparing a quick glance around the room, Solona motioned towards where Lirene had walked off. "Help Lirene. Do something productive while I'm gone."

Solona didn't give Stroud the chance to object. She was out the door and into the suffocating thickness of the sea air before he could blink. Darktown wasn't hard to find. One question to a merchant and then Solona was descending the stairs into the old mine-shafts. The smell of dung, urine and something even fouler met her nose and wrinkling it in disgust, she pushed her way through the refugee riddled tunnels. Solona had heard that some of the tunnels were used as a sewer now and that explained the scent, but since there was no ventilation, it was like a noxious gas.

The clinic she was looking for was hidden away from the main part of the tunnel system. Lanterns hung outside the doors and Solona was sure that once they were lit, they gave the place a comforting appearance. Solona steeled her nerves and prepared for a battle of sorts. She didn't know what she was walking into and knew she should be ready for the worst possible outcome. How much of Anders was left after his merging with Justice?

Opening the door to the small clinic, Solona stuck her head inside and was surprised to find it empty. A dozen cots were lined up beside each other, extending from one wall and ending in the center of the room. On the opposite side, a desk was positioned with papers, texts and empty flasks scattered about. Taking a hesitant step inside, Solona called out a hello. When there was no answer, she entered completely.

Anders seemed to have made himself a home in Kirkwall and although the circumstances could have been better, she was glad to see him have a purpose. She was about to check the contents of his desk for a clue as to where he could have gone when the sound of footsteps met her ears.

"I'm sorry, but the clinic is closed at the moment." The familiar voice of the man she'd known since they were children floated on the air and with a smile, she turned to meet him.

Anders looked different than he had in Amaranthine. His dark blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, some strands falling loose across his shoulders. He wore a robe she'd never seen before, complete with feather pauldrons. He was missing the earring that Solona had given him on one drunken night at Vigil's Keep. His jaw was covered in day old scruff giving him a roguish look. Overall, he looked weary, but well, for one the Chantry would consider an abomination.

She was about to greet him when Anders finally recognized her. His amber eyes widened in fear and a quiet 'oh bugger' left his lips. Then he changed.

A blue light erupted from his skin as if he was glowing from inside out. Anders grabbed a hold of his head and bowed over in pain, screaming out. He fell to his knees and Solona approached him without thinking about what was happening. She just had to get to him. She had to ___help _him.

That was when a hand closed over her throat.

Anders was standing again, but instead of looking at her with the soft, golden eyes she was used to, blue swirled in those depths, ethereal and magical. It was as if the Fade was staring back at her. ___The Fade_. She was looking at the face of Justice.

"Justice- don't do this." Solona said as calmly as she could with the hand still around her throat. "You know you don't want to."

"******You threaten everything Anders has worked for, Commander!**" An eerie voice echoed from where Anders's voice should have been. "******I will **___**not **_******let you take him back!**"

"I have no intentions of forcing Anders back to Ferelden. You have to believe me." Solona whispered, trying to not panic as the grip tightened slightly. She didn't realize Anders was so strong physically. "I'm no longer in the Wardens."

"******I will not fall for your lies! You would abandon your friends to ********t********emplars to save yourself.**" Justice sneered, leaning closer to Solona to show how much he meant what he said. "******Anders would be better off without you**."

Solona didn't give him a second chance to change his mind. With a quick pull on her mana, she cast a shield spell around her body. The force of the spell was so powerful that it launched Anders from her and sent him sprawling across the room. He hit the opposite wall, his head banging violently against the wooden planks that supported the building. As he slumped, unconscious, to the dirt covered floor, she let out a strangled sob. Anders was in trouble. She needed to find some way to help him. She wouldn't leave him to this fate. It would be too cruel to do so.

Wiping a tear from her cheek, Solona went to tend to her fallen friend.

Solona dabbed a wet rag against Anders' brow. She didn't like seeing her best friend incapable of controlling himself. Justice was a problem and one she didn't know how to fix. With a sigh, she gazed down at him wearily. The taint within her was growing faster than she'd expected. Solona figured it had something to do with not only the fight with the Archdemon, but the Architect as well. She'd spent too much time already around powerful tainted creatures and their darkspawn brethren. Her Calling was definitely going to come faster than those before her. She prayed she could find a solution to Anders' spirit problem before that happened.

Anders groaned as he regained consciousness. Her fears fluttering away at the sound, Solona moved the cloth back to the small bowl she held before setting it beside the cot.

"How do you feel?" She asked, resting a hand against his head.

"Maker- I feel like an ogre threw me across the room." Cracking open an eyelid, an amber eye watched her in suspicion. "An ogre didn't throw me across the room, did it?"

Solona couldn't help it. She laughed. ___This _was the Anders she knew and loved. The mage who, despite all of the hardships life brought him, still found a reason to laugh. Shaking her head, a smile still upon her face, Solona leaned forward and planted a kiss on his nose. The affectionate peck shocked him into opening his eyes completely.

"What was that for?" He asked with a smile turning the corners of his lips upwards.

"I missed you, fool." Solona teased him before taking one of his hands between her smaller ones. Massaging the knuckles with her thumb, she avoided his gaze as she continued to speak. "I was worried about you."

"Is that why you're here?" He asked, surprised at her admission. Solona wasn't one to reveal weakness, not even to her closest friends. With a sigh, Anders glanced at the collapsing ceiling of his clinic. "Maker- I'm so sorry, So. I was such an arse to you."

Biting her lip, Solona held tightly to his hand. "No, Anders. I was the one who was an arse."

Anders sat up and putting an elbow under his body for support, watched her with eyebrows pulled together. "___Don't_. You wanted to try for a regular life. I get it. I really do."

Closing her eyes as if she was in physical pain, Solona had to take a few deep breaths to calm herself. "You know me, Anders. I am not meant for a normal life. I can't ___do _it."

Anders squeezed her hand. He knew a lot about physical pain, the templars loved to inflict all sorts of torture upon his body, but he had an even closer relationship with the emotional variety. He hid all of it deep down inside of him where no one could find it. Well, that's how it was before he merged with Justice. Now Justice felt that torment and wanted to act against it.

Opening her eyes once more, Solona's hazel gaze found his. "What ___happened _in Amaranthine?"

With a groan, he threw himself back into the pillows. "You ___don't _want to hear that."

"I think I need to."

Anders nodded and took a moment to collect his thoughts. Then he began, "After you left for Redcliffe, I was so ___angry_. I felt betrayed and I truly believed that I hated you. I know that isn't true. I could never ___hate _you, So." She squeezed his hand and gave him a reassuring smile. That was all he needed to continue. "Well- you had met Rolan and a few of the other new recruits before you disappeared, right? Rolan and another I didn't know were templars prior to becoming Grey Wardens."

"Yes, I heard." Solona said with a frown. She hated that Anders might have thought she purposely left him with a couple of templars, the very people he hated most. To him, that would have been the ultimate betrayal.

"I was paranoid. They were always watching me. Or at least I thought they were. So when Justice offered me the chance to work together to free the mages, I took it and we became one." Anders paused as he waded through his thoughts. "It wasn't long after that Nate sent me and the Templars to the cave. I mistakenly let Justice come out and they tried to kill me. Justice... stopped them."

Solona let him trail off. It was difficult for him to recount the incident and it obviously caused him a great deal of pain to repeat aloud.

"So why did you come to Kirkwall? I've heard stories about the Gallows, even in Ferelden." Solona asked, genuinely curious.

Anders frowned. Rubbing the spot between his eyes, he explained. "You remember Karl from Kinloch Hold?"

Solona nodded. "That enchanter you always hung out with after you were Harrowed? The cute one with the dark hair and blue eyes?"

Anders smirked at her. Solona understood what he was trying to convey. "We were more than friends at one time, but yes, that's Karl. I came here because he was transferred to the Gallows. I never found out why he was sent here, he won't talk about it, but here I am. He needed my help, Solona. What else could I do?"

"_I understand why you came then, Anders._" Solona stated with a small smile. Her heart couldn't be happy though. Not with the sadness she'd seen on Nate's face at Vigil's Keep. "But what of Nathaniel?"

"_Nate_... I messed up, Solona. I messed up really badly." Anders covered his face with his callused hands. "I love him, but I'm a monster now. I can't face him."

Solona could feel her friend's pain. "He's really worried about you. So am I."

"I'm sorry." It was all he could say and she accepted that.

Solona watched him for a moment before allowing her eyes to take a turn around the clinic. It was empty, the morning quiet around them. She hadn't seen anyone in here when she arrived, but Lirene had said the clinic was usually bustling by the time the sun had risen. "How do you do it, Anders?"

"Do what, love?"

The pet name made her smile fondly and she focused her attention on him. "Have this clinic and be an ___apostate _in a city full of templars? Are they aware of what you're doing? Of what you are?"

Anders shifted in the cot, clearly uncomfortable with the question. "They are aware."

Slanting her eyes down at him, she realized he was avoiding a direct answer on purpose. "___Anders_..."

With an eye roll and a disgruntled sigh, the mage sat up and met her face to face. He was uneasy. "I've had... help... in keeping hidden."

"What kind of help?" Solona pressed, hating the game he was playing. He never did this to her unless he was going to say something that would either piss her off and make her upset.

"The Knight Captain is a friend." Anders finally relented with a grimace.

"The Knight Captain? Of the Templars?" Solona asked incredulously. "How did you manage that?"

"Solona... the Knight Captain is Cullen."

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**A/N:** If you haven't read my one shot, "Maelstrom", I suggest you do so before reading chapter 6. It goes into detail about Solona's past with Jowan and her first time meeting Cullen. It also gives a good stepping idea as to why Cullen developed a crush on her. The next chapter might not make sense if you haven't read the one shot, just a warning. :-)


	6. Knight Captain Cullen

Edit: 8/4/14

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Chapter 6: "Knight Captain Cullen"

Solona was eroding a trench into the floor of Anders's clinic. As she paced, she wrung her hands together nervously. She hadn't spoken in nearly an hour and her best friend was staring at her in concern. She was muttering under her breath so he couldn't understand what she was saying and it had him worried. When she finally did stop moving and glanced at him, her hazel eyes were wide and a wild look was fixed on her face.

"Solona- are you going to be alright?" Anders asked, fearfully.

Solona shook her head quickly, biting her lip and grabbing a handful of hair. "You do realize what Cullen meant to me after Jowan?"

Anders, at the odd wording of her question, slanted his eyes suspiciously. "What are you talking about?"

Solona met his gaze and at the look on his face, her eyes widened even more, if that were possible. "Oh Anders, not like ___that_! After you ran away for the thousandth time, I didn't have ___anyone_. I refused to speak to Jowan and his Chantry whore. Cullen... he was kind, and he was compassionate. He kept me safe from the other templars even though he owed me nothing. We became... friends. I haven't seen him since I annulled the Circle." She glanced away from him, embarrassed. "I'm a lot colder than I used to be, Anders."

The mage nodded. "We all are, So. The world has changed since we were young apprentices."

There was no denying that. Solona wasn't the same excitable mage from three years ago. Now, she was cold, bitter and a little rough around the edges. "I know."

Anders stood from the cot and approached her. She didn't make a move as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her in for a tight hug. Pressing a kiss against her braided chestnut locks, he whispered, "Let's go see Cullen, So. You might feel better."

Solona didn't tell Anders that seeing Cullen would undoubtedly make her feel worse. It'd been nearly two years since she'd left Kinloch Hold to become a Grey Warden. A year since she'd saved him from the clutches of a desire demon where he admitted his sinful feelings for her. Since she slaughtered all the mages in the Tower along with the abominations that ran rampant through it.

She had no idea what she was going to say to the templar.

Anders walked towards the exit of the clinic and paused when he noticed she hadn't moved. Turning to stare at her, a frown curled his lips. "Are you coming?"

Her heart was fluttering uneasily in her chest. Could she do this? Pushing down her nerves, Solona gave Anders a weak smile. "Give me a moment."

Anders's eyes became soft and he reached out for her hand. Placing it lightly into his outstretched palm, Solona felt her fear ease as their skin touched. His hands were rough from the wood of the stave he used to fight, but warm nonetheless. He closed his fingers over her hand and squeezed affectionately. "I'm here, Solona. You have nothing to fear."

The smile he gave her brought one of her own out. This was ___Anders _in front of her, the one she remembered and loved. It gave her a small shred of hope that somehow Justice could be expelled and Anders would begin to heal. Maybe then she would find it within herself to move on as well.

The Gallows was set off from the rest of Kirkwall. Solona hadn't realized she would have to get on another boat, albeit a smaller one, to cross the channel to the fortress that held the Circle of Magi. As she sat on the hard wooden seat watching the small waves crash into the watercraft, Solona cursed the Chantry and their need to lock mages away from the rest of society. Why did they have to make it so damn difficult to reach the Circle anyway?

Anders was silent during the ride over. She wasn't sure if he was as nervous as she, but if he was, he wouldn't say so. When the boat finally docked, Solona scrambled out as fast as she could without tipping the vessel over. She turned to help Anders out only to notice he had exited with ease.

"Come here often?" She asked with a quirk of an eyebrow.

Anders chuckled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "More than I should."

Solona, locking elbows with him, steered her best friend towards the gates that would lead to the Gallows. "Don't tell me you have a crush on a templar, Anders."

The mage flushed. "No! That's insane to even consider, Solona."

"I'm making sure." She said cheerfully, trying to hide her own anxiety. The thought of seeing Cullen again was alarming. "I never know with you."

Anders snorted a laugh. "You're a prat. Did you know that?"

Leaning into Anders's shoulder, she gave him a kiss on the cheek, his unshaven face scratching her skin. "Oh sweetheart- don't tease me."

A real laugh rumbled in his chest and happy that she'd gotten something out of him, Solona felt she could breath a little easier. When the pair had finally passed the gates and into the main square of the Gallows, Solona almost lost her ability to breathe altogether. The sights were unbelievable. Twisted statues stood all around, icons of a long suffering past. She'd heard the stories of the slave trade the old Kirkwall magisters had been famous for. The sight of these grisly mementos of that dark time was almost enough to frighten her into fleeing. The templars locked the mages up here? It was despicable.

Her arm dropped away from Anders as her hazel gaze moved from statue to statue, trying to distinguish between the horrifying expressions and what each meant. The movement of templar armour drowned out all other sounds, though she could still hear the babble of mages, guards, and merchants around the courtyard. Her hands fell upon Spellweaver, the sword secured to her belt. She was glad she'd left her staff at Anders's clinic. It was bound to bring eyes to her when she didn't wish to be acknowledged.

Taking a deep breath, her heart thudding, she reminded herself that no one here knew who she was. None of them knew she was a mage, that she was a Grey Warden... That she had been one of the Wardens to end the Blight and crown Ferelden's new rulers.

"Anders! It's a surprise to see you here."

Solona's heart nearly stopped in her chest at the familiar voice. Turning her head towards the sound, her eyes took in the sight of Anders, who had walked away from her side to speak to the Knight Captain, and the man whose voice she'd know anywhere- Cullen. He looked so like he had when they'd lived in Kinloch Hold. His wavy reddish blond hair was neatly trimmed. He was nearly clean shaven except for a shadowy dusting of hair on his jaw. It looked as if he'd gotten stronger and had acquired more muscle on his figure. The templar armour he wore shone in the bright sunlight. It was nearly blinding as she watched him, but Solona found herself unable to look away. He'd definitely matured. He didn't look like the same, nervous Chantry boy she remembered. He conversed with Anders as if it were normal for a templar to speak so freely with an apostate.

Solona was still staring in his direction when his expression changed. Anders must have said something because she finally got to see his eyes. They were turned towards her now. Her knees grew weak at the intensity of those green irises flecked with amber. His face displayed his shock, his eyes fixed solely on the image of her standing before him.

Solona had to keep herself from turning and flying when he brushed by Anders and approached her. She didn't know what she expected him to say. What should ___she _say? It had be a long time since the two of them had had a conversation. How do you explain all of the nugshit you've gone through in the last two years to someone who was once a dear friend?

When he was near enough to hear her, Solona opened her mouth to speak. She wasn't sure what she planned on saying, but she didn't have to worry about the words. He grabbed her by the waist before she could react and pulled her into his arms. Her hands gripped his shoulders as he lifted her up and buried his face into her neck. Tightening her arms around him, she clung to him like if she let go, she'd lose herself.

Something extraordinary happened as they stood there, wrapped up in each other. Solona's trepidation and uncertainty melted away. She no longer felt afraid of what was to come. For once, in a very long time, she felt safe.

"Maker, I've missed you." Cullen whispered into her hair.

Solona felt her throat close at the massive amounts of emotions swirling through her. They were confusing, she couldn't label any of them, but she knew one thing for sure. She and Cullen were bound together tighter than she had ever thought possible. It had all started at the Circle Tower in Ferelden where he'd been the only templar to be kind to her. He'd become her friend when she had no one else to turn to, no one else she could count on. He'd kept her sane and on the path that lead away from demons. If not for him, she might have turned to blood magic or even burned the Tower to the ground. All because of her turmoil and fear of being trapped within those walls and Cullen had been there to snuff the flames.

Solona found she couldn't speak. She was overwhelmed by their reunion and all she could do was squeak when she tried. He laughed merrily and set her on her feet again. She hadn't even noticed the tears until he wiped them away. The familiar gesture made her heart swell with happiness. It was an emotion she wasn't used to feeling.

"You... I...___here_!" She tried, waving her hands at the courtyard surrounding them.

Cullen watched her struggle with words, amusement bright in his gaze. "It's nice to see that I'm not the only one who stutters from time to time."

Swatting his chest-plate playfully, she reached up to wipe the remaining tears from her cheeks. "So you've become a snarky ass, eh? Maybe I didn't torment you enough in the Circle."

Cullen shook his head but he was still smiling. He brushed a stray wave of hair behind her ear and said, affectionately, "I'd go back to those days if I could. As I recall, your favorite brand of torture was to ___accidentally _light Templars' skirts on fire."

Her eyes twinkled mischievously. "It still is."

Cullen laughed. Tears gleamed in his eyes as well, but he didn't shed them. "I'll keep a wide berth then. Thank you for the warning."

Solona grinned at him. It was wonderful to see him again and there was a certain satisfaction to find him so joyful and easy-going. The last time she'd seen him, he had been tortured by a demon. He had been angry with her, blaming her for everything they'd done to him. It had broken her heart to see him so upset over something that was no fault of her own, but he seemed to have moved past it. It gave her hope that she might move past her own dark memories too.

"So Anders said you've been helping him?" Solona asked. "Why? I don't recall you having much in common with him before."

Cullen turned to glance at the mage he'd deserted a few moments prior. Anders was looking at his feet, attempting not to spy on the pairs' reunion. With a sigh, the Knight Captain shook his head. "He has a point about the mages here. Many of them are treated like criminals although they've done nothing to deserve it. One of those mages is his friend Karl."

Hearing the name of Anders's former lover squeezed at her heart. "What have you heard?"

"Not much. I may be Knight Captain, but there are still some things I'm not privy to. If something is happening, I'm not aware of what it is." Cullen faced her once more, a frown replacing his earlier smile. "Anders is your brother in all ways but blood. I would do anything to see him safe... to see you safe."

Solona blushed at his words. Trying to hide her embarrassment with a smile, she nodded towards the man they were speaking of. "What is your intent?"

"I suggest we smuggle Karl out of the Gallows. He may be in danger if left there much longer."

Cullen was so sure of what he was saying that Solona had to agree. They'd get Karl out of the Gallows, bring him to Anders' clinic and keep both of the apostates safe. Perhaps helping Karl was the perfect place to start in her mission to save Anders from Justice's grip.

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**A/N:** Oh the FEELS! Writing the scene between Solona and Cullen made my heart so happy! I hope everyone enjoyed their reunion. :-)


	7. Powerless

Edit: 8/5/14

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Chapter 7: "Powerless"

Solona could see the Chantry cathedral looming up ahead. Banners depicting the Andrastian sunburst fluttered in the light breeze that blew through Hightown. Solona glanced around the marble column she was standing behind, catching a glimpse of a Kirkwall guardsman as he walked through the courtyard. The young man stopped briefly, looked as if not really seeing his surroundings, then walked down a side street. Solona shook her head. How could someone be so blatantly ignorant?

Leaning against the column, the former Grey Warden Commander met the gaze of her companion. Anders had dressed in a simple pair of breeches with a linen tunic. His hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, and he looked like any other poor man walking around in the night. She smirked as he pulled on the trousers in obvious discomfort.

"Breeches too tight for you?" She asked jokingly.

Anders glanced up quickly and glared at her. "Very funny, So. You did this on purpose."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Solona said, trying to hide the grin that threatened to expose itself. "You said you wanted to blend in."

"Where in the name of Andraste did you find these things?" Anders muttered, grabbing at the band and attempting to stretch it out to better fit his waist.

Solona gave him an innocent look. "In my trunk. Why do you ask?"

Anders's amber eyes widened at the response. "That is a joke... ___right_?"

Solona smiled and put a finger to her chin as she inspected his appearance. "I always figured you were about my size. I guess that makes it easier for moments like this. Wouldn't you agree?"

The apostate opened his mouth then closed it a few times while he fought for words. Solona would have laughed at his expression, but she was momentarily distracted by the sound of armoured footsteps. Glancing around the column into the courtyard again, she saw the same guard from moments before walk back the way he'd come from.

The column she and Anders were hidden behind was one of many flanking the main section of the Chantry courtyard. An overhanging roof kept the pair of mages hidden from sight. She hadn't seen anyone walk into the Chantry, and she was beginning to believe that Karl wasn't coming.

"He'll be here." Anders promised her, still messing with the pants. "Cullen hasn't failed me yet."

Solona nodded, yet said nothing. She wasn't sure how many mages the Knight Captain had managed to smuggle out of the Gallows before this. Anders seemed to trust him, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. It couldn't be this ___simple_.

The unmistakable sound of heavy templar armour reached her ears and she stiffened. Anders, however, looked relieved. So he ___was _worried about the outcome of this mission. ___Bastard_.

"Cullen." Anders whispered in the dark, seeking out the Knight Captain's form. "We're over here."

Solona's hands gripped tightly to her stave; it was named Wintersbreath for the cold it radiated. The runes it was inscribed with were made of lyrium and gave the staff a glittering appearance, almost as if thousands of fireflies were encased within the material. The chilly air swirling around it helped to calm her fears though she still felt troubled.

When the templar became visible, a pair of blue eyes met her hazel ones. It wasn't Cullen standing in front of her. Solona twirled her staff before pointing it at him threateningly. "Who are you, and what are you here for?"

Winterbreath pulsed with its cold magic and gave off a bluish glow that lit the darkness around them.

The templar, who was still in full armour, tossed his hands to the air as if in surrender. Black hair fell into his face as he did so and a look of slight fear encompassed his classically handsome face. "Don't attack. I'm here on the Knight Captain's orders."

Solona didn't believe him. Jabbing the pointed end of the stave at his breastplate, she hissed, "And what would be your orders, ___templar_?"

Anders's hand gripped the staff and pulled it away from the templar. Solona, confused, glanced at her best friend, ready to tear her weapon from his grasp if the need arose.

"I know him, Solona. He is a... friend." Anders spoke to her gently as if ___she _was the one unable to control herself when emotions got the best of her.

"Friend?" The templar scoffed with a glare in Anders's direction. "I wouldn't go ___that _far."

Solona's eyes found the light blue of the templar's and, with a slanted gaze, snapped, "I'll gladly kill him if you'd like, Anders."

With a chuckle, her friend put an arm across her shoulders. "No, pet. This is the brother of a friend of mine. I'm sure Elias wouldn't be happy to hear that the Hero of Ferelden killed his baby brother."

The title made her grit her teeth, but she wasn't expecting the templar's mouth to drop open in shock. "The Hero of Ferelden? ___Her_?"

Solona yanked her staff from Anders's grip and stared at the young man across from her, a frown on her face. "What is ___that _supposed to mean?"

"I... well, you are an Amell, correct?" The templar said, rushed in his words. "My mother is an Amell. So that would make us... cousins, I believe."

Solona couldn't believe her ears. Glancing at Anders, she raised an eyebrow in question. "Cousins? What kind of madness have you gotten me into?"

Anders grinned at her. "It's true, love. Carver and his family are related to you. I guess, you'd be cousins, though I don't know all of the details."

Solona turned a wary look to the man named Carver. "So my cousin is a ___templar_?"

Carver flushed at the question, taking offense when there was none to be had. "My brother and sister are mages. I didn't ask to be the only warrior in the family!"

"Carver- I'm not trying to insult you." Solona told him, shaking her head. "We have more important things to worry about. Karl?"

Carver's face turned red again, but this time from embarrassment. "I... I'm sorry. You're right." Taking a deep breath, the young man glanced over his shoulder at the looming shadow of the Chantry. "You must hurry. I'm not supposed to be here. I need to return to my post before anyone notices I'm missing."

Anders agreed with Carver's words and Solona had to admit, the templar, her ___cousin_, was risking more than just his job if caught helping mages escape from the Circle. He, and Cullen, would lose their lives.

"Go, Carver. We'll handle the situation from here." Solona assured him with a small smile. "Thank you for your help." Carver nodded and then walked off into the night. When they were alone, Solona glanced at Anders. "Let's go. Karl awaits."

Anders took her hand and the two mages approached the Chantry.

Solona hadn't been in a Chantry since Queen Anora's coronation. She wouldn't have considered herself a devout Andrastian, far from it in fact. The Circle Tower in Ferelden had had its own Chantry, with mothers and sisters caring for it, but she'd rarely went into the chapel.

___No_, she thought to herself as she and Anders climbed the massive, elaborate staircase that would lead them to Karl. ___Jowan was the one who had suddenly taken up an interest in the Maker. If only she had known at the time that his interest had been for a Chantry sister, she might have stopped him from doing the stupid thing and turning to blood magic._

Once at the top of the stairs, she wiped the sweat that beaded along her forehead. She wasn't by any means unhealthy, but Maker- those were a lot of steps! They entered a small sitting area that contained a lit hearth, a settee and a table covered with old tomes. A man stood in front of the fireplace, his back facing them, eyes staring into the flames. Solona immediately recognized the short, dark hair of Karl even without him looking at her. It had been years since she'd spoken to him and excitement pulsed through her at the chance of seeing someone else from her Circle days. Who would have thought that Kirkwall would be the place of Ferelden reunions?

Solona waited while Anders approached his ex-lover. She was sure the two of them had been apart for a while now and would need a moment to settle their reunion. With a smile on her lips, her eyes took in the sight of Anders placing a tentative hand on Karl's shoulder before turning the mage around to face him. That was when she noticed the sunburst brand in the center of his forehead.

She felt her heart stop in her chest at the sight. ___No no no no no_... The word kept repeating in her mind as her eyes lost focus, tears erupting from their ducts.

Then Karl spoke, his voice a monotone that displayed no emotion. He no longer had the ability to use his magic, to love, to have a human connection. He'd been stripped bare of everything that made him a person.

"Karl..." Anders' voice carried all of the heartbreak and pain that Solona imagined he felt. The pain and heartbreak she herself felt. "___No_."

"Why couldn't you give up, Anders?" Karl asked, no expression on his face. That chilled Solona to the bone. No one should look like that. "I'm better this way. I can't hurt anyone with magic."

Anders put his hands over his face and shook his head. "No!"

Solona could feel the rip in the Veil as blue light engulfed Anders's body. He fell to his knees in front of Karl, unable to release the grip on his head. Justice was taking over and this was not good timing. She was about to take a step forward to aid him when the sound of armour ascending the staircase assaulted her eardrums.

___Shit_.

"This is the apostate." Karl said to the intruders and motioning towards Anders.

Solona glanced at the three templars who were now approaching where she stood. They were dressed in full armour with helmets over their faces. It'd been a long time since she had to fight a templar and knew they could easily make her magic useless with a smite. Grabbing hold of her staff, Solona spun around to face them. They had made a Harrowed mage into a Tranquil slave. They had broken Chantry law. They would ___pay _for this.

Holding Wintersbreath out in front of her, Solona called upon her frost magic. A slight blizzard began to swirl around her body and with eyes closed, she directly the maelstrom towards the trio of templars prepared to cut her down. Ice and snow rained down upon them, hindering any movements they might have made towards her. As she opened her eyes, her vision was blinded by a blue flash of light.

It took her a moment to refocus her sight, but once she was able to see again, the bodies of the three men lay bleeding at her feet. Taking a step away from the expanding liquid, Solona glanced up at Anders. He was breathing heavily, his staff in his hand and his body encased in Justice's glow. Trying to calm the terror pulsing through her, Solona reached a hand out towards her friend.

"Anders... it's over. You're safe now." With a step forward, she spoke again. "I'm safe."

The mage crumpled to his feet, uncaring of the blood that was staining the rugs of the Chantry. The glow faded signaling that Justice's hold was gone. Solona released her staff, allowing it to thud to the ground without a thought, and rushed to his side. Dropping to her knees, she threw her arms around him and let him weep into her shoulder. His tears soaked her robes, but all she could do was allow him to release his sorrow. She knew what he was going through. A dear friend of his was gone. There was no other way out of this but death. Karl couldn't be left as a Tranquil mage. He wasn't supposed to have been one to begin with.

"I'm here, Anders." She whispered, tears streaming down her face for him. "I'll always be here."

Footsteps on the staircase drew her attention and she was relieved to see Cullen standing there. He was holding his sword out in front of him, but the look on his face was enough for her to know that he wasn't going to hurt Anders. He gave her a questioning look. Solona allowed her hazel gaze to float towards Karl who was still standing by the hearth as if Anders hadn't just murdered three templars with his abominable magic.

Eyes widening, Cullen noticed the sunburst mark on the mage's forehead. He sheathed his weapon and walked to where Solona sat with Anders in her arms. The Knight Captain frowned sadly at them before glancing at Karl again.

"I could have stopped this." Cullen whispered, pain on his face for what had happened. "I should have been here."

Solona brushed a hand over Anders's hair comfortingly, the mage still sobbing, but her eyes were for Cullen. "This ___cannot _happen again, Cullen. You can't let it."

"I won't." He promised her, their gazes locking. He was determined and it eased her panic slightly. At least she and Anders had someone they could count on, someone who would fight for the mages. "I'll take care of Karl... and the mess."

Solona nodded, a lump forming in her throat at the thought of leaving Cullen to deal with the aftermath. He must have seen her concern because he gave her a comforting smile.

"There is no need to worry over me, Solona. I've handled worse than this." Cullen placed a hand on her shoulder and she quickly reached up to grip it, halting his progress of retrieving Karl.

"He can't be allowed to stay like this, Cullen. Promise me..." She paused to swallow more tears. "Promise me it'll be quick."

"I promise." He vowed, squeezing her fingers lightly. "Be safe, Solona."

She released his hand and let him go to Karl. She watched him retreat for a moment before getting the strength to move. Helping Anders to his feet, she guided them from the Chantry and into the Hightown streets. Her only goal in mind was getting him back to his clinic and helping him mourn his lost friend.


	8. The Will of Justice

Edit: 8/5/14

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Chapter 8: "The Will of Justice"

Anders was curled up into a tight ball on one of the cots in the back room, weary from the weeping he'd done for the last few hours. Solona had seen Anders at his worst, he'd been repeatedly whipped and molested at the Circle Tower in Ferelden, but this was a side to her friend that she'd never been a witness to. He was broken beyond repair. Karl's illegal Tranquility had pushed him too far, that much was clear. It cut her to the core to see him so devastated and inconsolable.

Closing the door to the small room, Solona quietly entered the deserted clinic, trying not to wake him from his restless sleep. The Darktown clinic was somber as if the building knew the sorrow stirring within its walls. With an exhausted sigh, Solona sunk into the chair behind Anders's desk and placed her head into her hands. Rubbing at her temples, she attempted to process what had happened earlier in the night. How could this get so mucked up? Karl hadn't deserved Tranquility. He'd taken his Harrowing in Ferelden more than ten years ago and had defeated the demon pitted against him. Karl was one of the most talented mages First Enchanter Irving ever had the pleasure of teaching; those had been his very words. Now Karl was gone.

Solona hadn't known Karl nearly as well as Anders had. She'd seen him during her time in Kinloch Hold, when she'd been an apprentice and he a newly Harrowed mage, but they never ran in the same social circles. Anders was always the type of person to find friendship wherever he could and had hung out with she and Jowan on many occasions although he wasn't an apprentice any longer. But Karl and he always had a bond that she would never achieve with the blond mage.

She loved Anders like a brother, but Karl was important to him. More important than she had expected. If he felt anything like she had after Jowan's death, Anders would need all the help she could provide in the weeks to come. She wouldn't be leaving Kirkwall anytime soon.

A knock on the door of the clinic interrupted her thoughts. With a sigh, she stood, stretched out her muscles, sore from the long walk from Hightown to Darktown, and approached the entrance. Pulling open the flimsy wooden door, she was surprised to find Cullen standing there.

"What-" Shaking her head to clear her confusion, Solona tried again to speak. "What are you doing here?"

Cullen responded by holding out Wintersbreath. With a miniscule smile, her hand wrapped around the dragonbone of the stave and brought it into her custody.

"Thank you. In all of the chaos, I'd completely forgotten it." She responded, leaning against the door as she took in his appearance. He had changed out of his Templar armour and was now dressed in a simple pair of dark trousers, leather boots and a loose light colored tunic. He wasn't carrying his tremendous greatsword and instead had a dagger attached to his belt. So he was incognito. She knew how essential it could be to be unrecognizable. Solona was sure the Knight Captain of Kirkwall's templar order would look strange walking around Darktown at this time of night.

"I didn't want anyone to find it in the Chantry once the sun rose." Cullen explained, his eyes never leaving her. "You're exhausted."

Running a hand through her loosened waves, she nodded. "Today's events would make anyone tired."

Cullen grimaced. "How is he doing? From what I saw, it seemed that he and Karl were, uh, ___more _than friends."

Solona glanced over his shoulder which caused him to do the same. Then she reached out and gripped his hand in hers. The contact of their skin sent a shock-wave through her, but she ignored it in favor of pulling him into the clinic and shutting the door behind them. Once they were safely out range of any ears that might be eavesdropping, she turned to face him.

Cullen was staring at their entwined hands with a red face. Beating her desire to pull him closer, she found the strength to release his hand. Then, to be safe, she crossed her arms over her chest. Cullen still appeared to be flustered so Solona spoke to distract him. "Karl was his lover once. Back in the Ferelden Circle. This is killing him, Cullen. The pain of what the templars did to him, what they did to Karl, has broken his heart. I don't know what to do to help."

If Cullen was uncomfortable at the mention of Anders and Karl's past relationship, he didn't show it. "I tried to speak to him on the way to the Gallows."

"Karl?" Solona asked, not sure how to take this revelation. "I thought you were going to-"

"I did." He interrupted, a pained expression crossing his features. "I only wondered if he knew who had done the Rite to him. If he knew, if he ___ever _knew, he wouldn't tell me. I think... I think someone was messing with his memories." Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose, a sign that a headache was coming on. "When he couldn't tell me anything, I did as you requested. I didn't like it, but I understood there was no other option."

Solona placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He dropped his own hand away from his face and met her gaze. "Thank you, Cullen. I couldn't have done it myself."

Cullen nodded absently, something else clearly on his mind. Her hand dropped away from him and returned to her side. When he spoke, it was with a determination that thrilled her. "I'll find the bastard that did this to Karl. I won't rest until it's done, Solona."

The sound of the door to the back room opening cut into whatever response Solona would have made. Both the templar and the warden glanced toward the noise and were surprised to find Anders staring at them. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair a disheveled mess. The bottom of his robes were covered in dried blood from the fight earlier and he looked like the dead come back to life. Solona was going to aid him when Anders shook his head.

"I don't need your help." The healer snapped at her, hurt in his voice. "I never ___asked _for it in the first place."

"Anders- please..."

"Stop speaking, Solona! Just... ___stop!_"

She bit her lip to keep from retorting and allowed him the emotional freedom he so obviously needed. Anders was mourning. She knew how irrational grief made people and would let him say what he needed to.

"I was fine with the way things were. I may be living in the shittiest part of Kirkwall with not a copper to my name, but I was doing some good for this Maker-forsaken city! I was ___helping _people! Cullen was keeping the templars off of my back and Lirene was keeping me fed as payment for my healing. Karl might have been stuck in the Circle, but he was ___safe_. Now he is dead and what do I have? Nothing to live for! Nothing to work towards! The templars took away my only reason for living and here___you _are, telling me that you'll help me heal, that it'll be alright. I'm sorry to dash your dreams, Solona, but I'm not going to be ___alright_."

Solona's breath caught in her throat as he stormed out of the clinic and into the dangerous tunnels of Darktown. She knew she didn't have a choice: she had to go after him. With a panicked glance at the Knight Captain, she decided that if he wanted to help, the first thing he could do was seek out Stroud. She hadn't checked in with her comrade and he was probably fuming right about now.

"I need you to do something for me." She said quickly, slipping Wintersbreath into its holster before securing it to her back.

"Anything." Cullen said immediately.

Solona ignored the butterflies that erupted in her stomach at the simple word. She wasn't prepared to dissect what he meant by it. "I need you to seek out a warden named Stroud. I believe he's staying at a place called 'The Blooming Rose'. Do you know it?"

Cullen flushed. "I... well, yes but I-"

She wasn't sure why he was so rattled, but she didn't have time to worry about it. Handing him a small amount of gold from her coin purse, she shoved him towards the door. "Give this to Stroud and explain to him that I'll be staying in Kirkwall for the foreseeable future. He can stay or go, I could care less. I need to find Anders before he gets himself killed."

Without another word in the templar's direction, Solona pulled on a violet robe before running down the streets after her friend.

Solona found Anders a few minutes later standing over one of the entrances that lead deeper into the abandoned mine-shafts. He was circling it and muttering under his breath. She wasn't sure what he was searching for, but she didn't like how he was behaving.

"Anders, come back to the clinic." Solona said quietly as to not startle him. He didn't respond so she tried again. "You need to rest."

Amber eyes met hers. Solona despaired to admit it, but Anders didn't look well. ___Not at all_. She was afraid Justice's possession was progressing to a level she wouldn't be able to undo.

"I'm going to finish this, Solona. Once and for all." He said, his voice so low it was nearly a growl.

The tone made her shiver. What was he becoming? He wasn't acting like the man she once knew. He was something much darker. A man who had lost everything worth fighting for was a man to be feared. It didn't help matters that he had a spirit bent on vengeance within his body contributing to his scattered thoughts.

"How do you plan on doing that?" She asked, wishing he'd tell her what was going through his mind. It never used to be this difficult to figure out what Anders was on about.

Anders gave her a wild-eyed look as he delved into his explanation. "I know who is giving the Rite of Tranquility to the mages. K-" Anders closed his eyes for a moment before continuing. "Karl and I had heard rumors about it, but never saw it for ourselves. Now I have proof the templars were doing it."

Anders grabbed a hold of the trapdoor that would lead deeper into the sewer-like tunnels that ran through Darktown. Solona finally stepped to her friend's side and put a hand atop the one gripping the door. The healer glanced at her warily as if worried that she'd stop him. With a weak smile, she helped him pull open the heavy wooden door before letting it thud to the dirt covered ground. A spiral of dust spun around them and Solona covered to face with her cloak to protect it from the particles.

As the dust finally settled, Solona pulled the cloak away to address Anders. "Are you sure you want to do this? After everything that's happened tonight-"

Anders's eyes slanted in a glare. "I will not leave another mage to be killed or made Tranquil against his or her will."

Solona agreed and followed him down below Darktown. The pair weaved through dank, deserted tunnels. These were more ominous and noxious than the upper level of Darktown and she wasn't sure that she liked being trapped beneath the ground. It reminded her too much of her time in the Deep Roads. Darkspawn and all manner of beasties dwell beneath the earth. The worst of them all, she'd found, were the broodmothers. Women, usually dwarves, but on occasion humans or elves, would be taken by the 'spawn and the dreadful things they'd do to them were endless...

Voices broke into her morose thoughts. Anders paused and it, in turn, made Solona do the same. The light ahead was brighter and it worried her. There was a group of people up ahead and she was positive the appearance of two unknown mages would start a battle.

As they approached the light and sounds, Solona took in her surroundings. The tunnels lead to an old lyrium smuggler's den. It was built with stone walls, wooden staircases being assembled directly into the mossy ground. Light flickered, illuminating the room from the glow of torches. Four templars flanked a fifth to her right. In front of them cowered a young mage, still in her apprentice robes, begging them not to make her Tranquil.

With fire in her blood, Solona moved further into the lighted area, determination coloring her tone. "What do you think you're doing?"

The templars spun at the sound of her voice, most going for their weapons. The fifth one, however, was clearly the leader. He was bald with oddly bright blue eyes, a white mustache that fell below his chin. Those strange eyes took in the sight of Solona and Anders before a sneer appeared on his face.

"Well- what do we have here? More mages looking for trouble. It's our lucky day, men. Take them, but leave the pretty one for me. I have... ___plans _for her."

Disgusted by him, Solona pulled Wintersbreath from its holder and spun the staff in a circle as she slowly, deliberately, took a step towards the group. "I'd like to see you try to capture me. I'll die before I let ___anyone _make me Tranquil."

The man she addressed chuckled as if she'd said something humorous. Suddenly, Anders cried out and a flash of blue filled the enclosed space. Solona frowned knowing that Justice was taking over. Whether it was to protect the young mage, or herself, she wasn't sure. But for the templars to see Anders, who by definition was an abomination, sealed their fate.

"******You shall not have her!**" Justice hissed, his eerie voice echoing around them as he grabbed Anders's staff in much the same way Solona held hers. "******You will not touch another mage!**"

Justice leaped forward, his magic firing in all directions. It was madness and fearing for the young mage, Solona darted forward. Once at the girl's side, Solona put an Arcane shield around them before turning her attention back to the battle. Justice had taken down one templar already, but the others were beginning to surround him, seeing him as the larger threat. Diving into her mana pool, Solona conjured a lightning storm that would encompass the templars closest to her. As the bolts smashed into two of the templars, their armour acting like conduits, fried them until they dropped dead to the ground.

Solona aimed a fireball at the leader and was satisfied when the explosion it caused knocked him to the ground. Anders finished off the final templar before approaching the fallen leader. The man with the mustache glanced up at them with a grin on his face. This angered Justice more than Solona thought possible. He blasted the templar with an ice spell that froze him solid. Then bringing the staff up, proceeded to thrust it at the ice, shattering the man into a thousand tiny meat chunks.

"Demon!" The young mage shouted from nowhere. Solona glanced at the young woman with wide eyes, not sure if she should be shocked at the reaction or not.

"******Demon!?**" Justice growled, striding forward to meet the woman. "******Who are you that you would label me as such? Are you one of them?**"

The woman shrank in fear of Justice's anger. The blue glow that encompassed him appeared to grow brighter and Solona began to worry, for the mage, for Anders, for herself. Positioning her body as a barrier between the apprentice and Justice, Solona put a hand on Anders's chest, trying to keep the spirit within him from doing something stupid.

"Justice, don't! This girl is a mage. You are trying to save them! Killing her would be for nothing!" Solona told him, raising her voice, hoping that Anders, wherever he was, would hear her words.

Justice raised the staff as if to strike her down. Solona prepared to fight him off when the blue light flickered before fading completely. Anders dropped his weapon, his hands grabbing his head as he struggled against the spirit. All Solona could do was watch her friend fight a war that he was steadily losing.

When he had regained himself, Anders's bloodshot gaze found hers and he looked horrified. "I... Maker, So. If you hadn't been here, I don't know- I would have-"

Reaching out for him, Solona shook her head, trying to find a way to comfort the man. He'd been through enough and the last thing he needed was more guilt to contend with. He felt enough of that over Karl as it was. "Anders-"

He flinched away from her touch. "I can't be here right now. I... I need to go."

Solona couldn't get a word in as Anders fled. She stood there for a moment in the silence that usually followed such a heart-breaking scene. Sighing, she turned her gaze to the mage standing beside her. "Are you alright?"

The mage nodded, but her eyes were focused on the spot Anders had just occupied. "What ___was _that thing?"

Solona's expression hardened. "___He _is a troubled man and my ___best _friend."

The girl blanched, but didn't offer a word of apology, not that Solona expected one. Determined to see this nightmare end, she offered to walk the girl to her mother's home. From there, the girl would flee Kirkwall and find somewhere safe to live. The last thing Solona wanted to do was to have to save her again.


	9. Trail of Blood

**A/N:** This is a shorter chapter than I've written in a while. I was going to continue it with some of the plot for chapter 10, but decided I wanted to leave all of the blood magic confined to a single chapter. Reviews are appreciated!

Edit: 8/5/14

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Chapter 9: "Trail of Blood"

Sleep didn't come easily to Solona. Every time she was about to close her eyes, she would see the dead templars in her mind and she would be awake for another hour. She'd given Anders a sleeping draught when they had returned to the clinic and he'd immediately fallen unconscious.

The potion was meant to last only a few hours, but his exhaustion and grief had kept him asleep. Deciding that she wasn't of any use to Anders while he slept, the former Commander of the Grey dressed in her old blue warden armor, strapped Spellweaver to her belt, and left the stink of Darktown for the fresher air of Lowtown. Solona was considering her options when it came to Justice. The scene she'd seen the night before convinced her of the urgency of the situation. Justice was no longer capable of merciful thought and was a danger, not only to templars, but to many others. Anyone who would question his actions would be a target and she couldn't risk him hurting innocents. She couldn't risk him hurting Anders.

Solona couldn't risk Justice hurting Cullen either.

Cullen was already endangering his life by helping the mages of Kirkwall. If the Knight Commander found out what he'd been doing, she would see him executed before going on a hunt for any mages he might have freed. Neither she or Anders would be safe from the Commander's wrath. Despite the direction of her thoughts, the image of brave Cullen standing in the doorway to the clinic during the previous night filled her with a sensation she hadn't felt in a very long time. Happiness, excitement... something close to those words. It had been quite some time since she'd had a conversation with the templar, but it was as if no time had passed at all. She was grateful for that.

The market in Lowtown was bustling with activity. Merchants were chatting up customers, the smell of food filled the air and although most of the poor lived on these streets, there was still a sense of togetherness that she dearly missed. The wardens had been a family to her once. People who were like her, lost and afraid, became something more when they joined the Grey Wardens. They became heroes and friends. They relied on each other and became a cohesive unit. Without Nathaniel, Velanna and Oghren at her back, Solona wouldn't have lived through the fight against the Mother and her 'children'. It had created a bond that would never break.

Solona arrived at the docks where a boat would transport her to the Gallows when a familiar man appeared at her side.

"Thought you'd get rid of me, did you?" Stroud whispered at her, annoyed. Solona met his gaze with a smirk on her face. "I didn't take kindly to your templar friend trying to send me on my way."

"Weren't you complaining on the ship to Kirkwall that you wanted to go back to Orlais?" She asked, digging out the toll for passage across the channel. "I thought you'd be grateful to leave."

Stroud huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "The Commander sent me-"

"To protect me. Yes, I remember." Solona answered before turning to the ferryman. "I'd like to cross to the Circle please."

"Yes madam." The older man said with a nod. He began to prepare for the trip which gave Solona a moment more to speak to her fellow warden.

"Stroud- if you are so worried about me, go back to the clinic and stay with Anders until I return."

"Where will you be?" He asked, still looking uncertain about her directive.

"I have some business with the templars. More specifically, the Knight Captain." Solona replaced her coin purse into the folds of her mage armor before meeting his eyes again. "I'll be fine. This isn't the first time I've been to the Gallows."

"What am I to do if Justice decides he doesn't want me there?"

Solona allowed the older man to help her into the boat before she glanced up at Stroud. He was staring at her, his eyes squinting to keep the bright sun out of them. With a reassuring smile, she spoke. "Anders is sleeping. If he wakes up, you can give him another potion. There are a few on his desk in the clinic. I shouldn't be gone long. Just make sure he stays out of trouble until I can return."

"Of course, Solona." Stroud said, placing a fist over his heart and bowing his head towards her. "I will not fail you."

Solona bit back the smile that threatened to form on her lips. Stroud was entirely too serious and this was definitely one of those times. "Maker watch over you."

"And you as well." The warden replied before wandering off into the crowds milling about Lowtown. With a soft chuckle, Solona sank to the seat of the boat and waited to begin her short journey across the calm waters.

Solona found Cullen in the spot he'd been the other day. It appeared that was where he usually stood during his shift and with a grin tugging on her mouth, she hurried across the stone ground towards him. She was excited to see him again, though he was dressed head to toe in his heavy templar armour. The sun reflected off of the metal, making him appear to shine within the horrible courtyard. He was a bright spot in the dark and she knew she could count on him to help her with whatever she needed.

She'd made it halfway to him when she realized he wasn't alone. Her cousin, Carver, was standing beside the Knight Captain, looking just as regal as his superior. But that wasn't all. There was a small ragtag group of people speaking to the templars. Her footsteps slowed as she took in their appearances. A dwarf was the first she picked out. He was odd, with blond hair pulled away from his round face, no beard gracing his chin. To see a dwarf without a beard was strange in itself, but his clothing was even stranger to her. He wore a leather duster over a red and gold tunic which displayed an ample amount of light chest hair. Hoops decorated his ears and an enormous crossbow hung from his back. A dainty elven woman stood beside him wearing a chain-mail bodysuit covered with a green tunic. A large scarf circled her neck and when Solona caught a glimpse of her pale face, she noticed the unmistakeable appearance of Dalish vallaslin.

Two others accompanied the elf and dwarf, both human. The male was tall, much taller than his companions. He was well built, muscles displayed proudly along his arms. Long, ebony hair hung freely across his shoulders, his skin was sun-kissed, and he looked like a man that wasn't afraid to speak his mind. He was gesturing with his hands as he spoke to Cullen and Carver, looking passionate about whatever it was he was saying. The female had the dusky skin of a Rivaini with dark ebony curls flowing down her back. An extremely short, tightly fitting tunic showing off her luscious curves was the only thing she wore with a pair of knee high boots. Gold jewelry covered her neck and ears while a stud was in place below her full lips.

There was no mistaking those golden eyes and seductive voice. With a happy smile, Solona hurried her pace until she was near enough to call out to those gathered. "Isabela?"

The Rivaini pirate turned her head in order to see who had called her name. At the sight of the warden, a lascivious grin broke out onto her face. "I'll be damned, if it isn't the Hero of Ferelden."

Ignoring the hated nickname, Solona halted her steps beside the dark haired man and put her hands on her hips, her eyes on Isabela. "What brings you to Kirkwall? I haven't seen you since before the Battle of Denerim."

Isabela left her companions in order to throw an arm around the mage's shoulders and pulled her close. "I ran when I heard the darkspawn were coming, sweet thing. You didn't expect me to stay and fight, did you?"

Solona smirked and with a shake of her head, met Isabela's gaze. "Never crossed my mind, Bela. But honestly, Kirkwall? It seems below your standards."

"Ah well I didn't have much choice in the matter. Shipwrecked and all." The pirate kissed Solona's temple quickly before she glanced over at her companions. "It seems our problems are solved, my darlings. Solona is not only a Grey Warden, but a mage. I'm sure she would kindly aid us in our endeavor."

The dark haired man, who was clearly the leader of this band of misfits, crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow in her direction. "Why would we need her help? Just because she's the damned 'Hero of Ferelden' doesn't make her better at hunting blood mages than us."

The mention of blood mages caught Solona's attention. Was this possibly the answer to her Justice problem?

Isabela slanted her eyes in the man's direction. "Perhaps you didn't hear me clearly, Elias. This is the bloody warden that slayed the Archdemon. The woman that not only saved Ferelden, but probably all of Thedas from the Blight. Care to rethink your words?"

"She is also our cousin, brother." Carver said to Elias.

The Knight Captain was watching the exchange with amusement, but refused to offer a word in either direction. Solona glared at him and he gave her a cheeky grin in response. If she wasn't so wrapped up in Isabela's grip, she would have slapped the look off of his face.

Elias muttered something under his breath before turning to the dwarf and elf. "What do the two of you think?"

The dwarf looked up at Solona with wonder. "I'd love to adventure with the Hero of Ferelden. Imagine the tales I could weave."

Elias rolled his eyes slightly before glancing at the dark haired elf. "Merrill?"

"She has lovely hair, doesn't she?" The woman said in response. Large green eyes turned to Elias and widened when she realized he was staring at her. "Did you say something, Hawke?"

"Never mind." He muttered, glancing back at Solona with contempt he refused to hide. She had no idea what his issue was, but she wasn't sure she___wanted _to help him if he was going to act like a brat. "If she thinks she can track down this infernal blood mage, she's free to come."

Solona knew she didn't have much of a choice. Allow this man, Elias, to go on a hunt for a blood mage, most likely to execute him, or go with them and find a way to use this mage's powers to save Anders. She knew her answer before she even spoke it. "I will help."

Isabela's arm squeezed tighter around her shoulders, but Solona could feel her heart beat faster at the thought of facing down a maleficar, only to do the one thing she vowed she would never do again. Blood magic. How far was she willing to fall before she gave up on her quest to expel Justice from Anders's body? She had used forbidden magic to save Redcliffe from the demon that had possessed Connor. She sacrificed the boy's mother to save his life and regretted it enough that she had refused a blood magic ritual that would have saved Alistair's life. Of course, she had to remind herself, she hadn't known that Alistair was going to give his life to slay the Archdemon, but if she had, she probably would have taken Morrigan up on her offer, if only to save the young Theirin's life.

Solona avoided Cullen's gaze as she followed Isabela, Elias and their two friends out of the Gallows. She needed to make a decision and quickly before they reached the blood mage. If she chose the route that she knew would help Anders, Cullen would hate her and she feared to see his reaction when he learned of her meddling in blood magic... again.


	10. A Hero, A Friend

Note: Elias is an arse. An enormous, flaming arse. :-p

Edit: 8/6/14

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Chapter 10: "A Hero, A Friend"

"So ___you're _the Hero of Ferelden?" The beardless dwarf that had introduced himself as 'Varric' said from beside her. Solona was following Elias and his group through the old mine shafts that made up Darktown. The moment they had arrived, she had to curb the desire to go check in on Anders. "I have to admit that I'm surprised."

Solona raised an eyebrow at the comment, unable to hide her amusement. "Surprised?"

With a shrug and a devilish grin, Varric turned his brown eyes on her. There was no shame on the man's face. Solona doubted there had ever been shame there before. "You are so... ___tiny_. I thought you'd be six feet tall with lightning bolts coming from your eyes."

The description brought a chuckle from the warden. "Really? I'm sorry to disappoint then."

"Oh, I don't know!" The perky elf said from ahead of them. She glanced over her shoulder at Solona and Varric, a bright smile on her pretty face. "You do have fascinating eyes! I'm sure if you tried hard enough you could shoot lightning from them."

"Uh- thank you?" Solona posed the response as a question since she really didn't know how to take the strange elf's words.

The elf smiled wider than Solona thought was possible for such a petite creature before turning back to the conversation she'd been having with Isabela. Elias was walking in front of the two women, ignoring his companions for the company of his own frustration. Solona didn't understand his attitude, but neither Isabela or Varric seemed bothered by it. Merrill didn't appear to notice.

"Don't mind, Daisy." Varric spoke, drawing her attention once more. "She can be a little silly at times."

Solona smiled, feeling comfortable in the presence of the jovial dwarf. He was nothing like Oghren that was for sure. While Oghren was a drunk and overly sexual bastard, Varric was suave, charming and exceedingly smooth. His weapon was flattery and he knew how to wield it. Knowing this, however, didn't diminish the effect his cheerful nature had over her. She could almost forget the purpose of the trip as she listened to him chatter on.

"Stop trying to charm her with your sweet words and chest hair, Varric." Isabela called towards them with a wink. "You were supposed to be saving those for me."

"You wish, Rivaini." With an affectionate pat placed on the crossbow that hung from his back, he replied, "Bianca is the only woman for me."

Solona snorted a laugh. "Bianca? Do you have a name for everything?"

Varric smirked at her question. "If you must know... yes."

"What about me?" Solona asked, braiding her hair as they walked. She didn't like having her hair loose so she put it in its usual braid whenever she had the chance. "What kind of name would you give me?"

"Besides 'Hero'?"

With a groan, Solona shook her head. "Please don't call me that. When people call me the 'Hero of Ferelden', all I think about is how much of a hero I'm ___not_."

"I sense a story there." Varric responded before chuckling lowly. "If I come up with a nickname for you, I'll let you know. Just so you know- Sunshine is already taken."

Placing a hand on Varric's shoulder, she smiled down at him. If she didn't know any better, she'd think she was falling in love with the goofy dwarf. Suddenly Elias stopped in front of a home in sad need of repairs off the dusty path. He gave a quick glare towards his companions before kicking in the door. Solona would have been speechless if his actions hadn't mirrored his attitude. With a sigh, she followed him, Isabela and Merrill through the now broken door and into the cramped one room within, Varric trailing behind her.

An elderly man was seated in a worn and dusty chair, a look of exhaustion on his face. A small fire burned in a hearth behind him, but it did little to light the room. The roof above them was full of holes that were made by age or little critters, possibly both from the state of it. The wood was covered in mold, the floor nothing but dust. A cot lay beside the door, a table and single wooden chair beside it as a place to eat.

Sorrow lived in this home and it made Solona sad to think that the people of Kirkwall could live in such squalor. The very thought that the Knight Commander and the Viscount would let things in the poorer sections of the city get so bad was horrendous.

Elias strode towards the seated man, a staff held in his outstretched hand. Solona had to admire the irony. Her cousin was an apostate and his brother, a templar. What were the odds of that?

Before Elias could open his mouth to speak, the old man glanced up from the book in his lap, not an ounce of fear showing on his weary face. "Are you here to bring me to the templars, boy?"

Elias bristled at the name. Lifting the stave threateningly, he snapped, "Why I don't just kill you and forgo the templars?"

Stopping the mortified groan that wanted to voice itself at the way he was acting, Solona took a step towards her cousin and caught the staff before pulling it away from Elias's grip. He didn't know what had happened at first but when he saw his staff in her hands, he spun towards her.

"How dare you get in my way?" Elias hissed before attempting a grab for his stave.

Solona moved it out of his way and took a step away from him. "Threatening people isn't going to get you the answers you seek, Elias."

"So is the great ___Hero _going to give me advice on how to interrogate a blood mage?" He growled at her, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "I don't ___need _your help."

"Elias- maybe you should listen to what she has to say." Varric said softly, not wanting to anger his friend more, but knowing Solona was correct in a softer approach to questioning a maleficar.

The raven-haired mage turned his ocean-blue eyes on the dwarf. "Oh you do, do you? I didn't ask for you advice, V-"

Solona brought the end of the staff against Elias' head. The collision echoed through the small house and the mage dropped to the ground without warning. Turning to face her companions, Solona met their shocked expressions with a wry grin. "Get him out of here. I'll take care of the blood mage."

As Isabela and Merrill prepared Elias for transport, Varric sidled up to Solona and appeared to worry. "Are you sure you can handle this without help?"

Solona shot a quick look at the old man who hadn't moved a muscle from the chair he sat in before returning her eyes to Varric. "I'll be fine. I'm the damned 'Hero of Ferelden' remember? If I can handle an Archdemon, I can handle a maleficar."

"If you say so, Killer."

The nickname brought a laugh from her lips. "You've thought of one already?"

"What can I say? I work fast." Varric winked and took her hand before placing a soft kiss upon it. "It helps to be surrounded by an inspiring woman such as yourself."

Solona could feel blush burning her cheeks at his comment and moved her eyes away from him to find Bela watching them with delight. Shaking her head, she pulled her hand away to grasp at her braid nervously. Maker, she was acting like a young Circle apprentice over one comment from this suave dwarf!

"We could use your help, Varric." Isabela finally called out, taking his attention away from the flustered warden. The dwarf chuckled and went to help the women take care of their leader.

With an embarrassed laugh, Solona ran her hands over her face. By the time Elias was taken away by his friends, she'd recovered enough to meet the blood mage's eyes. He hadn't spoken during the entire exchange but as he watched the former Commander closely, a smile broke out across his face.

"You need my help with something forbidden, don't you?" The maleficar said with a chuckle. "Of course you do. Why else would you knock out that irritating child?" Steeping his fingers over the book that now lay closed on his lap, those steel colored eyes met hers with interest sparkling in them. "Tell me, dear. What can Quentin do for you?"

Solona hide her fear and uncertainty behind a mask of determination. "I need you to remove a spirit from a friend of mine."

"I don't like this, So." Anders whispered as they stood in Quentin's dilapidated home, the roof leaking from the evening's earlier storm. "Blood magic is a bad idea. It's what got me in this situation in the first place."

"The past is the past, Anders." Solona told him with a reassuring smile. Putting a hand on his shoulder, she tried to banish his fears. "I wouldn't do this if I didn't believe it would work."

His amber eyes met hers with hope. Solona prayed that the ritual worked and they would be able to expel Justice from Anders's body. Otherwise, she was out of ideas on how to help him. "Do you really think this could work?"

Solona had to quell her own worry in order to nod her head and keep the smile on her face. "I do."

Anders glanced over at the older man who would be helping them. Quentin would be doing the ritual in exchange for his own life. "Elias isn't happy about this."

Solona rolled her eyes at the mention of her cousin. "Elias is the friend of a blood mage. He cannot tell me what is right or wrong."

Anders visibly swallowed as Quentin stepped forward. The old man had pulled his long graying hair back into a ponytail and was waiting for them to finish speaking. "Ms. Amell, if we may proceed?"

"Of course." Turning to Anders, she slipped her hand into his before leading him to the cot that had been provided for the ritual. Solona didn't release his hand as he climbed onto the mattress nor did she leave his side once he was lying flat. Her gaze found his and she smiled at him once more. "You will be fine, Anders. Deep breaths."

The healer did as she directed. With each exhale of breath he released, Solona could feel the tension easing from his grip. He didn't notice the tendrils of magic that she directed to their joined hands. When he was finally under the thrall of her sleep spell, she directed her attention to the blood mage. "He's ready."

The old mage drank a vial of lyrium before stepping closer to the cot. Quentin closed his gray eyes and placed a hand on Anders's head. His brow creased as he concentrated on locating the spirit within the mage under his control. Solona watched Quentin closely, noticing he was starting to sweat the longer he searched the Fade. A few more minutes passed until, with a heavy sigh, the blood mage opened his eyes and leaned against the wall beside the cot. Concerned, Solona released Anders's hand and helped to keep the older man upright.

"What happened?" She asked, worried for both the men in the room. "Did you find Justice?"

Quentin tossed a weary look in the direction of the cot where Anders was lying. With a low voice, he spoke. "We have a problem."

Solona's heart sank at those words. "A problem? What do you ___mean _we have a problem? You said you could do this!"

Quentin sank into a rickety wooden chair and placed a hand to his temple. "I wasn't aware of how entwined your friend and the spirit are. I cannot separate them cleanly. If I attempt to send the spirit back to the Fade in the condition they are in, it could destroy them both."

Solona felt as if her knees were about to give out from beneath her. This couldn't happen. ___Not now_. "So there is nothing you can do for him?"

Quentin met her gaze stoically. "I never said there was ___nothing _I couldn't do. But you are not going to like it."

"Tell me." Solona all but begged the man. "I'll do anything. He cannot stay like this. It's already destroying him."

Quentin nodded once before standing again. Solona stepped forward to make sure he didn't topple over, but he waved her away. "We can remove the spirit, but it has been broken. Your friend's soul has become one with the spirit of Justice. The only possibility of removing it from his body, however, is to transfer the spirit to another. Justice must be bound to a soul."

Solona shook her head, confused about what Quentin was trying to explain. "I don't understand. Why can't you just send Justice to the Fade if you can separate them?"

Quentin sighed. "I would if it was that simple. Your friend's soul and the spirit are one being. If I attempted to send Justice into the Fade, the tear in your friend's soul could kill him." The mage waved towards Anders's prone form. "The spell would require blood magic, of course. Some of Anders's blood and the blood of the one who will be the spirit's new host. When the blood combines, the spell will do the rest. Justice will detach himself from Anders's soul and transfer to the other person's. That is the only way this can be done."

Solona tugged on her braid, nearly pulling the tie out. She knew what she was going to do and Anders was not going to like it. ___Not. One. Bit._

"I'll do it."

Quentin's eyebrows came together in obvious confusion. "I'm sorry?"

Taking a couple calming breaths, Solona mustered her courage and met the blood mage's eerie gaze. "I will be the new host for Justice."

"You must think about this clearly, Ms. Amell. The spell isn't safe by any means. Taking a spirit into your body, allowing it to merge with your soul... you'd become worse than an abomination."

As Quentin tried to persuade her from doing the spell herself, Solona allowed her hazel eyes to fall upon the sleeping form of her best friend. Anders's dark blond hair was spread out across the pillow, his golden eyes closed to the chaos around him. He was at peace. She knew the moment he awoke and realized what she'd done, he would be angry. He might never forgive her. But this was something she had to do. It was the last thing she could give him. This was possibly the only way to save him.

Interrupting Quentin's in-depth analysis, Solona handed him the lyrium infused sword at her hip. "Is there anything else I should know about my joining with Justice?"

"It is irreversible. You will be attached to the spirit until you die... or until it takes complete control of your body."

"Fine." Thrusting the pommel of the light blade into his hand, Solona returned to Anders's side. Kneeling so their arms would be level, she gripped his hand in hers again before glancing up at the blood mage. "What are you waiting for?"

Quentin shook his head of any doubts and approached where she sat. He began to whisper words of whatever spell he was casting, one hand on her head while the other was on Anders's. Lifting their joined hands, Solona kissed his knuckles before resting them back on the cot. The Fade tugged at her as she knelt, beckoning to her. She tried her best to resist it, but it was becoming harder the farther into the darkspawn corruption she fell.

Quentin, with Spellweaver prepared for the ritual, stepped forward and grasped their fists in his hand. He made quick, deep cuts with the blade against Anders's skin then hers. He held their joined hands as he finished speaking the final words to the spell. At first, nothing happened. Anticipation was too much for her and she was about to ask Quentin if it had worked. Then her vision reddened. The power of blood magic swirled around she and Anders, and fear finally erupted within her. What had she _done_?

Pain hit her suddenly like a punch to the stomach. She fell forward, the pain encompassing her entire body. With a strangled cry, Solona clutched her midsection with her free hand. The one that was entwined with Anders's hand wouldn't budge. As she glanced around, she couldn't see the house, Quentin, not even Anders as he lay beside her. All she saw was the red of blood magic. All she felt was a stabbing pain that began in her abdomen and then worked a path up to her chest, through her heart and to the cut on her arm.

A bluish light merged with the red and Solona noticed that it was coming from her body, not her surroundings. The pain was replaced by a burning sensation, gaining in intensity until finally her poor body couldn't contain it any longer. Her eyes rolled up into her head and she fell to the floor, unconscious.


	11. O' Death

**A/N:** I hope everyone has liked the story so far and that you continue to enjoy my writing. I had a cover commissioned for this story by the lovely yuhime. You can find her artwork on deviantArt.

Edit: 8/6/14

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Chapter 11: "O' Death"

_"____Do you have anything to say in defense of this mage?" The Arl of Redcliffe asked her. Jowan was standing beside Eamon with his hands clamped in irons, guards surrounding him in case he decided to ____try____ to escape._

___Solona knew she couldn't blame him entirely for what had occurred in Redcliffe village. Loghain Mac Tir was the one who had ordered the Arl's poisoning. Arlessa Isolde was the reason why her son's magical abilities had endangered their arling. Jowan had tried to help after everything had gone to the Void. But as her hazel eyes took in the sight of the lanky, dark haired man in front of her, all Solona could see was how terrified he truly was. His robes were torn from the attack by the undead. Blood covered the front of the fabric. The arlessa's blood. He was paler than usual, his skin taking on a sickly pallor. Sweat dotted his forehead and his shoulder length ebony hair was tangled and dirty. Grey eyes stared at the floor, bloodshot and exhausted from lack of sleep._

___Eamon watched her expectantly. His son had survived the demon possession. That was a miracle in and of itself, but the arl's wife was now lying dead in the family crypt. Connor's survival had come at the expense of his mother's life and Solona had been the one to make that final decision. The nine year old boy was hidden away in his bedroom, unaware of what had truly befallen his mother. Eamon intended to tell his boy after the Archdemon was destroyed, but at the moment, there was an even more immediate issue she had to take care of._

___Solona sighed and turned to face Bann Teagan Guerrin. He had been beside her during the blood magic ordeal and knew she didn't take these judgments lightly. His blue eyes crinkled in concern at the indecision on her face. He seemed like a kind man and she figured he would take this weight from her shoulders if she asked him to. But she couldn't do that. Jowan was __her____ friend. He was __her____ responsibility. __She____ was the one who had to decide his fate._

___With a deep breath, Solona allowed her gaze to move to Jowan. He was looking at her, fear mixed with anticipation clear in his expression. It was as if he knew her decision before she even spoke it._

_"____He may have helped me save Connor's life, my lord, but he is still a maleficar. He tried to kill you, never mind the fact that he would have killed those templars at Kinloch Hold if he had been more powerful. The Circle will make him Tranquil and though it seems like a fitting punishment, I cannot do that to him, no matter what he's done."_

___Jowan's eyes widened at her response. Solona knew how much the blood mage feared the Rite of Tranquility. She would never put a fellow mage through that if she could avoid doing so. Jowan had done many things in his past: broke____n____ her heart, turned to blood magic, attempted to run from the Tower with a Chantry initiate, poisoned a beloved arl in order to save his skin... but she could never make him a husk of his former self. That would be a cruelty she could never be capable of._

_"____So what do you propose?" Eamon asked, crossing his arms over his chest and waiting for her response._

___Glancing away from the eyes of the man she'd once loved deeply, Solona answered the arl. "Jowan must be executed."_

___She could feel the maleficar staring at her, but she couldn't meet his gaze. The thought of his death was too painful for her to think about, ____bu s____he knew any other option would have been a worse fate. Eamon nodded his head in agreement before turning to a guard._

___Before he could speak his orders, Solona interrupted, "I'd like to be the one to do it, if you don't mind, my lord."_

___Shock was obvious on every face in the room. Alistair, who was standing beside her, glanced at her with sadness and pity. He didn't say anything to stop her however. They had been traveling together for the past seven months and he knew that once she'd made up her mind, that it was impossible to change ____it____._

_"____If that is what you wish, warden." The arl waved one of his guardsmen away before facing her again. "At your leisure."_

___Facing Zevran, Solona held out her hand for one of his short Crow daggers. The elven assassin placed the sharp, red steel blade into her outstretched palm. Gripping the leather encased pommel, she gazed down at the bright crimson metal as it reflected the light of the torche____s in the room____. It was strangely beautiful to behold, the dark metal that wouldn't show any stain of blood that fell upon its blade. The thought brought a shiver to her body. Jowan's blood would soon be on this very dagger and even then, the liquid wouldn't stain it._

___Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jowan step forward, his hands clutched before him. She tried to ignore him, to ignore the frantic beating of her heart, but it was impossible to. "Solona... you must do this. I _know___that, but please, listen to what I have to say."_

___Solona attempted to swallow against the terror that threatened to choke her. With a stiff nod, she allowed her eyes to meet the blood mage's. He was no longer afraid, she noted. He seemed to be relieved that a decision had been made. _Odd___, she pondered as she waited for him to gather his thoughts. _Jowan had never been a brave man. What had changed?

_"____I realize that we've been through a lot, So. I have done unforgivable things in the time I've known you and I'm clueless when it comes to feelings, especially yours. But I am grateful that we were friends." He paused and wiped a tear from his cheek. "I'm happy that it's you ending it."_

___Bile threatened to expel itself at his words. Why did he have to be so calm about this? Why couldn't he fight the decision and make it easier for her to end his life?_

___Jowan gave her a weak smile before turning his back on her. Fear clouded her mind as she moved closer to where he stood. Raising the blade, she allowed it to rest against the exposed skin of his throat. She could see his body tense at the touch and taking a deep breath, Solona attempted to prepare herself for what was going to happen next._

_"____I'm sorry it had to come to this, Jowan." She whispered in his ear, hoping none of the other people in the room overheard her. "I wish it could have ended differently."_

_"____You and me both, Solona." The mage answered before closing his eyes. "Do it."_

___Burying her regret be____hind____ a stoic exterior, Solona strengthened her grip on the dagger's pommel. With a quick stroke, the blade cut cleanly across her friend's throat, severing his artery neatly. Jowan's hand____s____ covered his wound immediately as if he could stop the flow of blood. Solona could feel the warm liquid drip on her bare skin, but she ignored it as she memorized Jowan's final moments. As he began to sink to his knees, a wave of anger ensnared her ____so strong that she had to close her eyes____. The final ragged breaths reached her ears as the blood mage finally succumbed to death._

___Her heartbeat was the only thing she could hear once Jowan went silent. The sound of the blood in her heart pumping quickly throughout her body was like a song only she could comprehend. ____S____he was overcome with sorrow, anger, and fear. The lifeblood that had fallen upon her hands felt cold now. Jowan's death had ended her ability to feel warmth and that scared her more than anything else._

___Finally getting the courage to open her eyes, Solona was astounded to find that she was no longer standing in Redcliffe Castle. None of her friends were with her. Jowan's dead body wasn't at her feet._

___A cool, ocean breeze tossed her loose hair around her face. ____H____er eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness surrounding her. No sounds reached her ears. It was eerie seeing the white moonlight illuminating the woodlands and grass yet hearing nothing but the surge of the ocean and the wind rustling the leaves overhead. Birds, small critters and large predators were nowhere within sight or sound._

___She took a step forward and felt her bare feet meet something cold and sticky. Concerned, she moved back and held a hand up, a glowing orb appearing where nothing had been before. Glancing down at her feet, she noticed a strange substance staining the soft grass. Her eyes followed a trail of the dark matter until she noticed a pile of something odd a few feet away. Approaching, Solona was merely curious until the smell reached her nostrils. Choking against the odor of burnt flesh, she turned away from the mass of body parts. The substance she had stepped in was blood and the flesh had been scorched beyond recognition. Her eyes watered as she attempted to find her breath. Only when she opened her eyes did she catch a glimpse of the shining warden ____armour____ strewn away from the bodies. These men had been wardens and now they were dead. It was all her fault._

___A sharp pain erupted within her head and crying out, Solona gripped at her ____skull____, trying to gain to control of herself. The migraine was so severe that she could no longer stand and so she fell to her knees in the blood soaked grass. Blue light ____erupted around her____, cracks of the luminescence breaking through her pale skin. Her head felt as if a thousand daggers were stabbing into the skull repeatedly, slowly creating cracks within the bone. Her vision went white as Solona lost control of her body._

With a shout, Solona shot up in the bed she rested upon, tears streaming down her cheeks. As the sudden panic attack worked its way through her, she attempted to get a look at where she was. Before her mind could catch up with her sight, a hand reached out to grab the warden's shoulder. Protecting herself from the attack, Solona put a hand up and released an ice spell to freeze the assailant before he could touch her. She didn't expect a wave of anti-magic to fall upon her the moment she raised her palm, rendering her spell useless.

The anti-magic was like a slap across the face and it left her gasping. A feeling of emptiness invaded her body and more tears fell at the unfamiliar sensation. Solona had never been at the receiving end of a holy smite before and the thought of a templar having power over her in this fragile state terrified her. Clutching to the tunic she wore, the warden found it difficult to catch her breath.

A pair of hands grasped her face and forced her to stare into green eyes with amber flecks in them. The moment she saw the irises, Solona immediately calmed. She'd know that gaze anywhere. "Cullen?"

The Knight Captain gave her a strained smile before nodding his head. He was weary by the look on his face and none too happy. "I'm here, Solona."

"Wh- what happened?" She asked as his hands dropped from her jaw. Rubbing her forehead, she tried to piece together the events of the night. "Where am I?"

Cullen sighed and turned away from her. He was sitting on the edge of the cot she was lying on, his hands dangling between his knees. "Anders's clinic. When he awoke, he sought my help to bring you back here."

"Oh." It was the only word she could think to say. Memories of blood magic, Justice's essence leaving Anders's body and entering hers, Quentin's warning about how it couldn't be undone... all of it flooded her mind. She didn't voice any of her concerns. There was nothing that could be done about her choice and she had to live with it.

With a groan, the templar placed his hands over his face. "Why did you do it, Solona?"

Her heart dropped from her chest. "Anders told you."

"Yes." Cullen's dark gaze found hers. He appeared much older than she'd ever seen him and she knew it was her fault. "He told me ___everything_. About the spirit of Justice, about his joining with it, about how you wanted to help him so ___bloody _badly that you took the damned spirit into your body-" Cullen shook his head in disbelief. "How could you be so daft?"

"I did what I had to." She told him, voice not quivering at her response. She knew what she'd done was stupid, but she wouldn't regret it. Anders would be able to live a normal life, as normal a life as a warden could that was.

"I know you care for Anders, but this could have killed you." Cullen snapped. "Did you even think how Anders would feel if you died doing something like this for him? How ___I _would feel?"

"Cullen, I..."

"Don't." He interrupted her, fury taking over. "It is my duty to strike you down. You are an abomination, Solona, and you cannot be allowed to live."

Fear tugged at her heart yet she could feel an anger stirring deep within her. It was Justice, she realized. She knew what would happen if he took control of her body now. The Knight Captain would have no choice but to kill her. Pushing the spirit's will away from her mind, she spoke, "I understand and I didn't want to put you in this position, but I felt like I had no other option. Anders is my best friend, my brother. I would do anything for him."

Cullen shook his head in disappointment. "And I would do anything for you, it seems."

The templar stood up from the cot and began to walk towards the exit. Confused, Solona glanced around and noticed that Anders wasn't in the room, nor could she sense the darkspawn taint he held anywhere near. Was Anders going to let the templars seal her fate?

"Cullen?" Solona called out, finally glancing at his retreating back and taking in the sight of him pause in the doorway.

The templar turned to watch her with uncertainty. "What is it, Solona?" He sounded tired, defeated and altogether sad.

"Are you going to kill me?" She knew she should have been afraid of her death, but the thought of it was almost peaceful. The nightmares would finally end. Maybe death wouldn't be so bad after all.

Closing his eyes, Cullen spoke softly. "I haven't decided."

Without another word, the Knight Captain left the clinic, not bothering to glance back even once.


End file.
